


The Debutante's Dilemma

by cait170301



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: AU, F/M, Non-Magical World, Regency
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-08
Updated: 2018-10-23
Packaged: 2019-05-19 17:15:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 25
Words: 50,662
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14877995
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cait170301/pseuds/cait170301
Summary: Hermione never expected to be a debutante until her mother's godmother, the Dowager Countess of Ross, became her guardian. Now she has to avoid the pitfalls of Society, when she'd rather be in her library than at a ball, and find a husband who doesn't just have an eye on her fortune!





	1. Chapter 1

“If you please, miss, the Dowager Countess of Ross has arrived and is asking for you”  
  
Hermione sighed as she closed the volume of Miss Edgeworth’s ‘Practical Education’, which she had been perusing in an attempt to keep her thoughts from drifting to her future, especially the knowledge that today she was to leave her childhood home with no certainty of when, or even if, she would ever see it again.  
  
“Please see her into the front drawing room, and fetch a tea tray. I will attend her there” she stated as she lay the book aside and went to check her appearance in the glass over the fireplace.  
  
Seeing that her hair was still neat, and covered by the half-mourning lace cap she wore, despite the time she had spent in the library that morning, she left and crossed the hall to the drawing room to greet her visitor. She had known the Dowager Countess all her life, as that lady had been her mother’s godmother and had kept in touch throughout the trying months since her parents’ unexpected demise the previous winter.  
  
“Well, come along in girl”, came the terse instruction from the Dowager, “let me look at you in the light. You seem very pale but I suppose that’s only to be expected if you will keep yourself locked up in that library as your father allowed you free rein to do.  
  
“Still, at least it means that we don’t need to worry about freckles, and a little Milk of Roses will be all you need rely on, rather than Gowland’s or Denmark lotion.”  
  
“Please excuse me, ma’am, but I’m not sure why my complexion is of such importance?”  
  
“Why child, because you are almost twenty years of age, have no parents and so must look to a husband. You knew you were leaving here today; why did you think I was taking you to Town, if not to find a future for you? After all, the Season begins soon, and you have already had to miss the Little Season as you were still in mourning. Now, let us finish this dish of Bohea then get on the road for I have no wish to be travelling still once darkness falls, nor to find myself constrained to spend the night in a public inn.”  
  
The next morning, Hermione found herself waking to the sound of footsteps crossing the room, and opened her eyes to see a young maid making her way to the dresser bearing a jug of water.  
  
“Good morning Miss Granger. I’ve brought your washing water if you're ready to rise,” offered the maid.  
  
Hermione wasn’t sure if she was still dreaming. She wasn’t used to having fresh water brought to her room in the morning; even though she was the daughter of a gentleman, there had not been the money for many servants, and her mother’s maid didn’t have the time to help Hermione as well in the mornings. Strangely enough, warm washing water was the one thing that so far seemed to point out that she truly was living another life to that she had thought would be her lot.  
  
As she washed her thoughts turned to the previous day, and the journey up from the house in which she had spent her childhood. The travelling coach had been well-sprung, much more so than the barouche she had been used to using when paying calls with her mother, so that although the journey had taken some seven hours, including a stop partway for a nuncheon, she had not felt too badly knocked about when they reached the townhouse in the middle of Mayfair. Still, she had been glad to have been informed on her arrival that she did not need to change for dinner and to be dismissed to her bed soon afterward.  
  
Selecting a delicate lilac muslin with matching ribbons signifying her half-mourning status, she dressed then began the daily battle to restrain her dark brown curls into something close to an acceptable style. The maid rushed to offer assistance, placing pins with a skill that suggested long practise of her own.  
  
“Thank you”, said Hermione, “I’m not used to such help”  
  
“You’re welcome Miss Granger. Lady Ross did say as how I was to act as your abigail unless you wished to use another.”  
  
“Well, I don’t see any need to look for another maid when I have already been gifted with someone who can tame my hair in such a short time. Now, what do I call you, and where did my caps get put when you unpacked?”  
  
“It’s Sarah, Miss, and if you’ll pardon the suggestion, you shouldn’t be a-wearing of a cap. You’re a debutante not a widow or spinster. Miss McDougal, that is Lady Ross’ abigail, was most clear to me about that.”  
  
“In that case I think I’m ready to go downstairs Sarah. Can you tell me where I should go to find the breakfast parlour, and will I find Lady Ross up already?”  
  
“Just go down the main stairs Miss, and the footman will show you the way from there. Her Ladyship is usually up at a good time so you should find her waiting for you.”  
  
Following these instructions Hermione soon found that the maid was quite correct, and the Dowager Countess was indeed waiting in the breakfast parlour, with the footman removing her empty plate.  
  
“Did you sleep well then Hermione? I see that the maid got the instruction to have you leave off those caps at least.”  
  
“Yes Lady Ross, to both questions. Sarah tells me she is to act as my maid, for which I thank you. She has already shown an ability to deal with my hair without making me feel like a hedgehog with hairpins.” Hermione nodded her thanks to the butler as he served her a portion of ham, and spooned mushrooms onto the plate to accompany it.  
  
“Good. McDougal thought she’d suit you, and will ensure she knows everything she will need to if you are happy to use her. If you prefer I can ask the housekeeper to send to the agency for an experienced abigail?”  
  
“No thank you, Lady Ross. If you don’t mind, I think I’d prefer a maid close to my own age as I’m not used to any help getting dressed. Sarah did refer to me as a debutante earlier; do you mean to have me presented at Court? I don’t feel at all ready for such a thing - it was never my expectation as a child.”  
  
“In that case you will need to change your expectations. You are an heiress now my child, albeit not such a one as to attract the worst of the fortune-hunters. Thankfully your father was sensible enough to employ a good solicitor, who will continue to act as your trustee until such time as you find yourself a husband of whom both he and I approve.” Lady Ross raised her eyebrow at the face Hermione pulled at this thought, before sipping from her cup. “Now, do you want some more ham, or have you enough to sustain you through the shopping we must begin? You know you will need a complete new wardrobe as you must come out of even half-mourning, although if you wish you can keep to muted ribbons and other trimmings? Nothing else to drink my dear? Then away and find your pelisse, for we should endeavour to arrive at Mme Fanchon’s establishment before she is engaged with another.”  
  
Even as early as it was, when they reached Mme Fanchon’s shop it was to find it already full of bustling assistants and twittering girls looking over the latest fashion plates from Paris. It didn’t take long though for Mme Fanchon herself to come forward to greet the Dowager Countess, and look appraisingly at Hermione.  
  
“Milady, I am zo pleased that you ‘ave chosen to bring your ward to my atelier. I zink she will be a plaisir to dress. Please to come to my private room and we will begin hein?” The mantua maker ushered the two ladies through the throng, gesturing to an assistant to bring refreshments as she went. “Now”, she began as the door closed behind the assistant leaving them free from prying eyes and ears, “we can be ourselves, yes?”  
  
“Quite.” stated the dowager, “And please do leave off that silly so-called French accent now Matilda Malkin. I know perfectly well you were born in Essex!”  
  
“Yes, I know Milady, but you know that most of the ton wouldn’t dream of patronising an English dress-maker, at least for their gowns for the Season. So, for them I am Mme Fanchon, a couturier who fled the Terror.” She gestured to the tray of refreshments, silently offering both ladies a choice of Madeira or orgeat. “As I ventured to mention outside, I am pleased that you have brought Miss Granger to me, for I do believe that she will wear my creations well. She has no need of stays or other aids to the figure, and I dare to hope that we could possibly achieve such a look as to set most other girls quite in the shade. If you are in agreement Milady, we shall dress her in the simplest of silhouettes, and allow her natural grace to outshine those who must rely on frills and bows to attract the attention of those around them. The waistline has risen again this season, and only the finest of figures can take such a line with no balance at the hem you know. I notice you are wearing half-mourning Miss Granger. Is this required going forwards or will you allow me to choose your colours?”  
  
“I would prefer to keep to muted colours, but am more than willing to be guided by those with more knowledge than me of such things as fashion” replied Hermione, somewhat surprised to have been consulted at all given the way the dressmaker had been addressing her remarks solely to Lady Ross to that point.  
  
“I quite agree my dear”, replied Mme Fanchon, “In fact, I would suggest that we shall use only the palest of blue, rose-pink and primrose muslins for your day dresses, and of course your gowns shall be nothing but purest white. Now, you shall need at least two in silk, and I have a beautiful satin just arrived that will do admirably for your Court dress. That will need more decoration of course, and I think this Chantilly lace will provide just the required detail without overpowering the overall effect...”  
  
Hermione felt herself losing track of the details as the afternoon moved on; so many bolts of fabric had been held against her to check their hue against her complexion. She had seen two apparently identical shades discussed in detail for minutes at a time until one was rejected, while such nuances as Bishop-sleeves, and the choice of satin or grosgrain ribbons seemed to be the subject of almost more consideration than surely the Duke of Wellington had given to his tactics at Waterloo the previous year. Her attempts at refusing to order more than a few dresses and one evening gown were peremptorily dismissed by Lady Ross, who made it clear that no thought of such vulgar behaviours as economy were to be entertained. Indeed as she would be paying for the whole and found no cause for concern in a day dress of twilled cotton costing over twenty guineas then neither should Hermione.  
  
Eventually, even two such determined ladies as Lady Ross and Mme Fanchon had to admit that they had covered all they could in that visit, and that all that was left was to select two day dresses from those partly made up to be finished as soon as possible in preparation for Hermione to begin making and receiving calls. A fine pale lavender muslin, and a twilled cotton in palest green were duly chosen, and an assistant called in to pin and mark the alterations required to make them complete for use. Then Hermione and Lady Ross made their way back to the waiting carriage to make their way back to the townhouse, safe in the knowledge that the completed dresses would follow shortly in readiness for the next day.


	2. Chapter 2

The next few days passed in a flurry of fittings at Mme Fanchon’s establishment, trips to the warehouses of Cheapside to pick out yet more material, to the milliners for more bonnets than there were days of the week, the haberdashers for endless ribbons and so on until Hermione was sure that it couldn’t be possible there was anything left in the world to buy, nor money to buy it with. Occasionally she ventured to suggest that there was no need for further purchases, only to be faced with the Dowager Countess’ insistence that she bow to her decidedly superior knowledge of just what was acceptable in the way of outfits.

The cap to it all came one day when Hermione was informed at breakfast that the hairdresser had been engaged to arrive that morning, and she should place herself in his hands entirely. Somewhat to her surprise, she found that he chose not to cut the length from her hair as she had feared, stating clearly that the current shorter styles although fashionable would not suit her in any way. She should instead lead fashion to a return to longer styles, which would by their very weight help keep her hair in place, assisted by the careful hands of Sarah in placing pins, ribbons and flowers as required.

Having enquired as to Hermione’s knowledge of dancing, performing on the pianoforte and other manner of ladylike accomplishments, and having been assured that all had been carefully studied under the eagle eye of Mrs Granger prior to her sad demise, eventually Lady Ross announced that she was satisfied that Hermione was ready to make her debut in Society.

“I shall be At Home this afternoon, Hermione”, she opened with one morning, Hermione clearly able to hear the capitalization that announced this to be an event rather than merely a declaration of intent. “We can expect a number of visitors, so please ensure you are with me in the parlour rather than hiding away in the library as you have so many afternoons. Tell Sarah to lay out one of the new muslins - perhaps the primrose would be a cheerful selection.”

“Yes, Lady Ross.” replied Hermione, though not without some apprehension as to meeting hitherto unknown matrons. Those visitors who had made morning visits had to that point been met solely by Lady Ross, with Hermione allowed to remain unseen. “Are you expecting any particular friends or anyone I should already know, although to my knowledge I cannot claim acquaintanceship with anyone in Town?”

“I am not sure who will be here just yet; it is still early and the Season has not fully started you understand? I do expect my good friend the Dowager Countess of Longbottom, and have every hope that she will bring her grandson with her. I think you will find young Longbottom to your liking as he is a quiet fellow, not given to rakish behaviour as seems to appeal to too many of our young men. I do believe that he may know more than even you dear child on the subject of the raising of hothouse flowers, an interest he inherited from his late mother! The Browns I know are already in residence, so we may expect both Mrs and Miss Brown. This will be Miss Brown’s second Season, and her manners are a little too free for my taste, but then such is ever the viewpoint of the elderly of youth I believe. No doubt others will arrive also, to delight and annoy us in their turn.”

Lady Ross’s perspicacity was shortly proven. No sooner had Hermione joined her hostess in the front parlour than the butler announced their first visitors. Hermione was soon thankful for the general rule that a visit should not last more than a given time, for otherwise she was sure that the room should have become over full, and no seating would be left available for new arrivals. Indeed, she was thankful for having been blessed with a good memory, though even so she was starting to feel confused as to which particular debutante was from which family - not helped by the preponderance of titled ladies who had passed through the room, where the surname held by the daughter was often not the title enjoyed by the mother!

“The Earl of Longbottom, The Dowager Countess of Longbottom, Miss Brown” came the subdued yet clear tones of the butler as more visitors crossed the threshold towards the end of the hours allotted to the At Home, just as the room had begun to empty. Hermione glanced up at this, knowing the elder lady to be a friend of many years’ standing to Lady Ross, to see a matron who truly embodied the adjective formidable making her way to their hostess to greet her, accompanied by a stocky but diffident man and a laughing girl both of about Hermione’s age.

“My dear Lady Ross”, began Lady Longbottom, “how wonderful to see you in Town again this year. May I present to you m’ grandson Neville, Earl of Longbottom, and this you may know is Miss Lavender Brown, who is doing me the honour of providing me a little company today?”

“A pleasure to see you all,” replied Lady Ross, “and in turn please allow me to introduce my ward Miss Hermione Granger, who I am sponsoring in her debut.” Bows and curtsies were exchanged, before Lady Longbottom seated herself on the settee next to Lady Ross, with every sign of settling in for a long discussion as the two matriarchs caught one another up in the latest crim cons. and so forth.

“Please, do come and be seated Miss Brown”, invited Hermione. “Have you been up in town long?”

“Only a week or so” replied Lavender, “and my mother sends her apologies but my younger sister has a touch of the megrims and so wishes for our mother’s company this day.”

“Quite understandable Miss Brown. There is no substitute for the comfort of a loving attendant when one is not quite up to snuff.” Hermione turned to their third with a welcoming smile for the apparently shy young man. “Good afternoon Lord Longbottom. I do hope we find you in good health?”

“T-tolerably so, Miss Granger” came the reply. “Have you been able to see much of the town as yet?”

“Not so much, my lord, for her ladyship has kept me much occupied in the refurbishment of my wardrobe since our arrival. I am afraid it was dreadfully in need of it, being either still half-mourning, or dating back to before my parents’ fatal illness.”

“I can imagine so”, came the swift rejoinder from Lavender, “and indeed you have my condolences on such a sad loss. I can’t help but notice that you have patronised Mme Fanchon – you must tell me, is she quite as incomprehensibly French as I have heard? My mother prefers Mme Lavalle you understand.”

“I did not find her to be so” replied Hermione, with a decided twinkle in her eye as she remembered that first afternoon in Mme Fanchon’s private fitting room, when the dressmaker had left off her accent and reverted to the tones of her youth. “I found her most welcoming, if bewildering in her approach to fitting a new dress. I don’t think I knew there were so many variants of cotton in existence before that day! But Lord Longbottom must be bored of our discussing such fripperies. Tell me, milord, is there a park you would recommend above others for promenading? I admit I am beginning to miss the walks I used to take in my mother's rose garden.”

“It really depends on what you are looking for, Miss Granger. Regent’s Park cannot be beaten for vistas, but there are many smaller parks and gardens that have more interest in terms of their flower beds. If you are looking for a walk from here, then Hyde Park may suit you - a short walk through the park will take you to Kensington Gardens, which will be beautiful when the trees blossom as they should do soon. Plus of course, if you’re merely looking for a breath of air, then Grosvenor Park is on your doorstep!”

“Thank you, milord. I will endeavour to explore whenever I can prevail on Lady Ross to excuse me for a time, providing of course that there is a maid or footman available to provide me escort. Perhaps I might constrain you to join me Miss Brown, especially if your sister continues to require your mother’s attendance?”

“That would be most welcome Miss Granger. I know my mother will have naught to worry for if I were to be taken up by you in such a way.”

“Perhaps I can offer my escort also, Miss Granger” came a quiet voice from Lord Longbottom. “I can show you both some of the safer paths through the parks, and then you would need only a maid to provide you countenance rather than taking up the time of one of Lady Ross’ footmen? Shall we attempt an outing tomorrow afternoon, unless you are otherwise engaged? I believe it is due to be fine, but should the weather turn, I shall borrow my grandmother’s coach so that we may at least see a little of Hyde Park.” 

The three young people were unaware of the fact that they were the subject of close observance from the two matriarchs across the room. There was much head-nodding at the ease with which the three had fallen into conversation, and when they heard mention of a trip to one of the local parks the next day, the two looked significantly at one another.

“Perhaps you need not be so worried about his shyness, Augusta”, murmured Lady Ross to her companion. “It certainly has not stopped him from fixing an appointment with two pretty girls within but minutes of being introduced to one of them.”

“I suspect I have you to thank for that, Minerva,” came the retort. “If you think I can’t see your hand in that conversation opener of Miss Granger then you have another think coming!”

“I must admit to having given her a hint as to his interests, but the request to Miss Brown for company was a masterstroke of her own invention.”

“I shall hope then that I may yet see him fix his interest this year. It would be good to see him settled and setting up his nursery before much longer. I cannot hope to be here forever, and I fear for his retreating to the hothouses completely should there be no one else in the house to require his presence at the dinner table.”

Oblivious to these asides, the three had moved on to contemplation of other entertainments that were available in the metropolis.

“If you are truly interested in the ancient world Miss Granger, then I must recommend that you visit Lord Elgin’s marbles which have recently become available for viewing at the British Museum.”

“I must admit to being curious to see them, Lord Longbottom, although I cannot help but agree with Lord Byron that they should perhaps have been better left in situ. Of course, in that case I should likely never see them for myself”

“I’m afraid I see no appeal in a load of old rocks, but I do believe that they have also a large amount of ancient jewellery on display” was the response of Miss Brown to this turn of conversation.

“Well, in that case perhaps we could look into an outing there one day? I’m sure we could make up a party. I believe that Viscount Fitzroy has some interest in the marbles, so will ask if he can join us if you are agreeable?”

“I have not yet made the Viscount’s acquaintance, milord, but would welcome the opportunity to converse with one who is knowledgeable on the matter” replied Hermione.

“Oh, but he is such a severe person Lord Longbottom. Could we not instead include his nephew? His Grace is much more personable and agreeable you know!” objected Miss Brown.

“I’m sure that if the Viscount were to make one of our party, the Duke of Peverell would also agree to join us Miss Brown. Shall I enquire as to their availability when next I see them? We could also include Miss Weasley and her brother? If we were to do so, I am sure we could depend upon Mrs Weasley joining us, which would solve the issue of a chaperone.”

With nods of agreement from both girls, the subject was regarded as settled for now, and conversation turned to descriptions by Miss Brown and Lord Longbottom of the persons mentioned so as to allow Hermione to prepare for meeting them should the proposed outing come to pass.


	3. Chapter 3

The Earl of Longbottom carefully handed his grandmother into the town coach as they departed the Browns’ residence. Miss Brown had been returned to the bosom of her family to the welcome news that her sister was much improved after a quiet afternoon and Mrs Brown believed she would be able to resume her social engagements the next day without constraint of conflicting maternal duties. Once Lady Longbottom had settled herself fully, and the door had been closed by the waiting postilion in readiness for the coachman to give the horses the office, she looked at her grandson quizzically before deciding that the time was ripe for conversation.

“What did you make of young Miss Granger then Neville my boy? I saw that both you and Miss Brown found much on which to converse with her.”

“She seemed most agreeable Grandmother”, was the reply. “It was pleasant to find that she seemed much interested in matters beyond those of her gown and ribbons.”

“That doesn’t surprise me. Lady Ross reminded me that her mother was a Dagworth before her marriage, and you know they have no shortage of brains. Of course, I doubt not that had she been a simpering miss that Lady Ross would not have taken her up so. She’ll make a good wife for a man of sense, you mark my words. You could do much worse than drop your handkerchief in her direction”

Lord Longbottom was silent for some minutes at this straight talking, used though he was to it from his grandmother who was proud to state that she had no time for milk-sop manners. In time he found his voice again, and was able to make it clear to his grandmother that despite her decided suitability in general, he felt that Miss Granger was not quite to his taste in particular, although he had no objection to furthering her acquaintance as he believed that at the least she could provide him some welcome relief at the various balls at which they were likely to encounter one another. He further informed his grandmother of the proposed visits to Hyde Park and the British Museum, to her general approbation.

“If you have no objection Grandmother, I shall dine at the club tonight as we have no set plans. With any luck I should see Peverell or Fitzroy there and can seek their agreement to make two of the party for the Museum. John Coachman can set me down here as we are just by St James St, and will see you home without need for my escort.” This suggestion being met with a nod of agreement from Lady Longbottom, he knocked to have the coach stop, and waved it off in relief.

Walking down the street he paused as he passed the door of Brook’s, but on seeing a couple of young bloods of the Fancy heading in that direction who were already a trifle disguised chose instead to proceed next door to Hogwarts, where such behaviour was frowned upon. Entering briskly, he passed his hat and greatcoat off to the waiting Filch and made his way through the rooms, looking to see who was in attendance. Waving away an invitation to make up a fourth at table for whist, he continued his path through to the back parlour where those who wished could bespeak a dinner. To his great joy he found an old friend of his father’s there with whom he shared an interest in roses, and so passed a most pleasant hour in conversation over their beef and a shared bottle of claret.

Returning to the front parlour, he was called over to a table of company of his own generation, including a number of distinctive Weasley redheads. The eldest three present – the second son of the family and his twin brothers, all of whom were currently on furlough from the Guards - soon made their excuses and left for their home, where they intended to spend some time in catching up with their esteemed father without the interruptions contingent upon their mother’s presence. That lady was engaged that evening to be attending a musical soiree together with their only sister, newly out, where the prize attraction was a rendition by Miss Warbeck, the famous soprano.

“My sister tells me that you were providing escort to Miss Brown today Longbottom” began the remaining redhead, the youngest of the brothers. “Can we expect notice of a new Countess soon?”

“I have no intention of making such a change in my household at the present, Weasley” was the rejoinder to this sally. “My grandmother offered to lend Miss Brown the benefit of her chaperonage as Mrs Brown was otherwise engaged this afternoon. She has a fondness for the chit as her father was an intimate of my own sire, but even she agrees we should not suit. You know that we saw much of each other as children, and even now I have difficulty seeing her as other than a schoolgirl.”

“And what do you make of Lady Ross’ ward?”

“Not you too, Weasley – I get enough of this at home!”

“Longbottom, what brings you here this evening?” called a newcomer as he crossed the room towards their table.

“Attempting to escape gossiping old women, only to find myself plagued by gossiping young men instead mostly,” replied the Earl with a grimace towards his tablemate. “I’m not sure if Weasley here is trying to cut out his competition, or endeavouring to determine if his sister can still attempt to fix my interest!”

“’Pon rep, Longbottom, ‘tis hard of you to say such things when I’ve only been trying to make conversation”, objected Weasley.

“Hardly conversation Weasley, do you not agree Malfoi?” appealed the earl.

“I should have realised that you had no notion of good conversation Weasley”, replied the Vicomte. “After all, one only has to see you at table to realise your poor mother must despair of your manners”

“We can’t all be as refined as you, Malfoi. I’m sure even the Beau himself daren’t choose a new coat without your advice” was the retort.

“I’m sure I don’t know what you mean” replied the Vicomte, with an apparently negligent glance first at his own immaculate coat and inexpressibles and then the less reputable garments of Weasley.

“No need to plume yourself – just because you’re the Pinkest of the Pink!” and with that Weasley returned to the previous topic “You didn’t give your opinion of the new heiress Longbottom. Is she a diamond as my mother would have me believe, or is it merely her portion that shines?”

“I’m sure I don’t know of her expectations, although I do know she is the ward of Lady Ross after the death of her parents, and her mother was a Dagworth so there’s no hint of trade at least. She seems intelligent enough – so far as one can tell from a single conversation over tea at any rate. If you want to make your own assessment you could join us when we venture to the British Museum. Miss Granger expressed a wish to view the Marbles.”

“I say, she’s not a blue-stocking is she?” ejaculated Weasley.

“Nothing so vulgar”, replied Lord Longbottom. “Merely well-informed and interested in expanding her knowledge further on the subject.”

“She certainly sounds too intelligent to fall for your addresses Weasley” drawled the Vicomte. “If you’ll excuse me gentlemen, I see my godfather has just arrived” The Vicomte made his way across the room and moved out with the Viscount Fitzroy who had just appeared with his nephew. That estimable gentleman acknowledged the gestured invitation of Lord Longbottom, and after exchanging greetings with Vicomte de Malfoi, made his goodbyes to his uncle and called for a brandy from the waiting servant.

Seating himself he sighed, before bemoaning his inability to appear in any drawing room in town without every eye looking to see if he might favour one debutante above another, or, perhaps worse, inadvertently suggest that he might be about to offer carte-blanche to one of the new matrons.

“Well, if you will swim in lard, and show no sign of getting riveted you can hardly complain if people try to fix your interest” was the less than sympathetic response of his friends.

“Longbottom was telling me of his meeting with the new diamond this afternoon” offered Weasley. “He seems to think she’s something out of the common way, so perhaps she’ll meet even your apparently impossible standards.”

“In what way, Longbottom?” came the query from the Duke, for indeed this was the Duke of Peverell. Unlike many of his rank, he was still young, having ascended to the title at the tender age of ten, when his parents had perished in the same carriage accident which had deprived the Earl of Longbottom of his parental figures. Indeed, his rank, estates and person were such that he had been regarded as the catch of the last two seasons for ambitious girls and mamas alike. Thankfully good training by his maternal uncle, the Viscount Fitzroy, and the assistance of his close friends had combined to ensure that he had not yet fallen foul of any schemes as had been intended to leave him leg-shackled. He was aware though that he had a duty to secure the succession before much longer and had informed his uncle only that afternoon that he was minded to look seriously to taking a wife. He had more sense than to express this thought to any other, knowing that should such a notion become known he would become not merely a catch, but truly the prey of that most treacherous of hunting grounds, the ton ballroom or drawing room.

“Only that she seems to have more in her mind than gowns and other such fripperies. Indeed, I ventured to suggest making up a party to view Lord Elgin’s Marbles with her and went so far as to suggest that I invite both yourself and Viscount Fitzroy to join us. I know he has some knowledge of the subject so may be able to provide more erudite commentary than I could hope to do.”

“I must admit to wishing to make such a visit myself. I will consult with Fitzroy, and we will endeavour to fix a date. Now, who is for a hand of faro?” All the gentlemen being of the same mind thoughts turned to the game they began after calling for cards and a fresh bottle from the waiting servants and all considerations of the future were left to the morrow.


	4. Chapter 4

By the following week the Season was in full swing. All the townhouses in the road had their knockers upon their doors, and Lady Ross had received a pleasing number of cards inviting both her and her ward to all manner of entertainments, from At Homes to full balls. Hermione had been almost universally acknowledged as a welcome addition to the cousinry, and very little was wanted for her to be named one of the Diamonds of the Season. Her manners and appearance were accepted as being without fault, and many a less-favoured girl had been heard to lament their haste at having acceded to the blades of the hairdresser or wish they could have had their gowns made to simpler lines.

Following the discussion held in Hogwarts’ front parlour various witnesses had wasted no time on their return to their homes in apprising their spouses of the news of a new entrant into the lists. The details of her inheritance – both from her parents and that she could expect from Lady Ross who obviously favoured her over the distant branch of that lady’s family who were the current incumbents of the title and estate – had quickly spread throughout the ton as had her lineage. Her father may have been a simple country gentleman, but her mother had been a Dagworth, and that name still had cachet. An heiress of such standing could not be ignored, as she would prove to be either a potential source of improving their own family’s finances in the form of a bride for a purse-pinched son, or a competitor for the hand of an eligible parti. Even those without close relatives set upon the marriage mart were watching closely to see if she had formed a tendre, or for the slightest misstep she might make. She lacked only an appearance at Almack’s and the approval of the Beau to complete her acclamation.

It was therefore with no little degree of nervousness that she began preparing for her first formal ball. Thankful though she was that her host would be the Earl of Longbottom, with whom she had developed an easy friendship, she knew that she would have to constrain her natural pleasure at his company, or she would be deemed to have set her cap at him – when both of them were well aware that they should not suit in terms of setting up housekeeping together! Her close acquaintanceship with the Longbottoms, and more particularly her guardian’s long friendship with the Dowager Countess, meant that their invitation included the pre-ball dinner, where Hermione was aware she would be under even closer scrutiny as one of only a dozen guests rather than the multitude that could be expected at the ball itself if the occasion were to be the dreadful squeeze it was expected to be.

Never before in those weeks had Hermione been so thankful for the forethought of Lady Ross in providing her with a personal maid. Sarah, under the auspices of Miss McDougal, had fulfilled her initial promise and never failed to turn out her mistress looking anything but a picture of perfection. Somehow even Hermione’s hair seemed to behave under the delicate fingers of Sarah in a manner that even the dearly departed Mrs Granger had never managed to bring about. Hermione sat before her mirror watching as the maid wound a ribbon of palest green through her curls, accenting it with pins headed with tiny seed pearls here and there as she went. Blessed as she had been in her complexion, Hermione had had no need to resort to applications of Gowland’s lotion even with the change of air from country to Town. Nor was the rouge pot required to bring a pleasing colour to her cheeks – all that was needed was a touch of Olympian Dew each morning, and the merest hint of rice powder before she went into company.

Her hair finally complete, Sarah handed her into the white silk gown that had been the pinnacle of Mme Fanchon’s creative exertions, saving only the Court dress which would soon be called into employment. Hermione gazed with deserved pleasure at the fine lace which peeped out from the hems and bordered the square-cut neckline of the underdress, while forming the whole of the open overdress. She slipped her feet into her fine dancing slippers, suffered the placing of a gauze scarf about her shoulders and accepted from her maid her reticule and fan before making her way to the stairs to join her guardian in the hall to await the carriage.

“Child, you have never looked so much like your dear mother” was Lady Ross’ first remark on seeing her. “If you would allow me, I would like to offer you the loan of this for the evening” At this she gestured to her maid, who came forward bearing a jewellery box, and opened it to Hermione’s curious gaze to display a set of fine pearls. “I wore these myself as a girl, and had hoped in time to pass them on to my daughter but it wasn’t to be. I would be delighted if you would wear them tonight my dear”

“I would be delighted to do so Lady Ross” was the only reply Hermione could give, though she was thinking now that this must have been planned, for nothing else could explain the way the pins in her hair matched so well – or the lack of necklace proffered by her own maid earlier. On hearing this, Miss McDougal placed the box on a nearby hall table and moved to place the necklace around Hermione’s otherwise unadorned neck, before screwing in place the matching earrings. With a curtsey to her mistress she then departed, taking the box with her, no doubt to ensure it was waiting the return of its contents upon Hermione’s dressing table.

“Now, have you everything you will need? Here is your dance card; remember no more than two sets with any gentleman, be careful who you promise the supper dance to, and for goodness sake, please don’t dream of accepting an invitation to waltz.” With these final strictures Lady Ross led the way out of the townhouse and to the waiting carriage to begin the evening.

Dinner had been delicious, served a la Russe, and Hermione had been pleased to have been placed between two gentlemen she had previously met, and with whom she could enjoy civil conversation without worry that she was encouraging any advances they may make, as one was Mr Brown, the father of her now good friend Lavender, and the other an avowed bachelor of similar years. The meal had passed without incident, and the party then made their way to the ballroom to await the arrival of those guests who had dined elsewhere. Hermione was standing to one side of the entrance door speaking quietly to Lavender as the guests filed in, announced in turn by the Longbottoms’ butler, a man of numerous years’ service with a voice honed through those years to project clearly across the room without seeming in any way to raise the volume or otherwise interrupt the polite utterances of the various groupings.

“Vicomte de Malfoi, Vicomtesse de Malfoi” echoed across the room, and Hermione looked up to see possibly the most exquisitely dressed man she had ever encountered making an elaborate leg towards his host and hostess. He was accompanied by a beautiful woman who by her years and resemblance to the Vicomte Hermione could not help but determine to be his mother. They were both dressed in the first stare of fashion, her gown of puce seeming like a flower against the deep green of his perfectly fitted coat, while Hermione was almost brought to the blush by the fit of his knee breeches. Fanning her face she turned away to face her companion, feeling disconcerted by the direction of her thoughts, which had turned almost against her will to wondering if his hair were to feel as like to silk as it looked from across the room.

“Viscount Fitzroy, The Duke of Peverell” was the next name to break into Hermione’s consciousness. Daring to glance up to see the men who Neville had informed her were happy to join in the proposed visit to the Museum, she was struck by the contrast between them and the Malfoi mother and son duo. Where the latter had been blonde – the Vicomte almost to the point where she would have believed him to have powdered his hair had the style not been so obviously au naturel – the new pair were a study in darkness. At this distance both appeared to be in black, unrelieved except for the snowy whiteness of their shirts and cravats. Again the family resemblance was marked, although she understood the Duke to favour his father more than his maternal family in the eyes of those who had known the previous Duke and Duchess, and indeed he seemed to favour the fashionable Windswept hairstyle while his older companion preferred to pull his hair back in a queue, albeit foregoing the powder that just a few years earlier would have been de rigueur.

The strains of the orchestra rose, and Hermione realised that during her wool-gathering Lord Longbottom had approached the corner where she waited, accompanied by the Vicomte.

“Malfoi, please allow me to introduce to you Miss Granger, who is the ward of the Dowager Countess of Ross. Miss Granger, may I make known to you the Vicomte de Malfoi? He has been known to me since our boyhood, and I have no hesitation in recommending him to you as a dance partner” began Lord Longbottom, before turning and offering his arm to Miss Brown to escort her to the floor to open the dancing. Finding her voice had deserted her, Hermione could only make a curtsey in response to the bow from the Vicomte, before accepting his arm in turn to join the set being made up for the first country dance.

By the end of the dance she was feeling more herself, and was able to respond coherently to the comments ventured by the Vicomte in the pauses allowed them by the dance’s movements. He accompanied her off the floor and saw her safely to the seats occupied by the various matriarchs and thus the oversight of her chaperone.

“It was a pleasure Miss Granger to make your acquaintance” stated the Vicomte, “and I would be much obliged if I could engage you for a second set later in the evening. Do you waltz?”

“I must admit that I do not waltz as yet Lord Malfoi” responded Hermione.

“In that case, may I reserve the second country dance after supper?” returned the Vicomte, and upon Hermione’s agreement inscribed his name against that set on her card. “I look forward to furthering our acquaintance later then, but for now must bid you adieu as the next set is upon us” he continued, bowing slightly to all the ladies before moving to his next partner, a young lady just out of the schoolroom, who appeared unable to do more than blush at his approach. Her own next partner, one of her companions at dinner, not being long in making his appearance she turned her attention to the present and to following the patterns of the dance.


	5. Chapter 5

From that point Hermione found herself much in demand, and her dance card was quickly filling up, barring only the waltzes and the supper dance in the first half. She had not yet found a partner for that set who she felt she could both spend the supper with and not feel she was raising hopes that had no possibility of being fulfilled. Luckily, just as she was beginning to think she would have to resign herself to spending the supper interval with her guardian and the other chaperones, thus marking her as a wallflower to the chattering guests, she found herself approached by her first partner of the evening, while a waltz was played, who introduced her to his companions.

“Miss Granger, may I introduce to you His Grace the Duke of Peverell, and his uncle and guardian Viscount Fitzroy? It has been my pleasure to watch His Grace grow since he was but a babe in arms you understand.” The rueful glance given by the Duke at this aside proved its truth, though it was clearly an oft-repeated phrase from the smirk on the Viscount’s face.

“I am pleased to make your acquaintance Miss Granger. Both Sir Alistair here and the Earl of Longbottom have done naught but sing your praises as a female of sense these many days past” sallied the Duke, with a decided twinkle in his expressive emerald green eyes. “Indeed, I find Longbottom to be so enamoured of your company that had I not known of a prior call on his affections I should have expected almost to see you declared his betrothed tonight!”

“You must know that such a thing would not happen so soon, Peverell” remarked the Viscount. “Had there been even the slightest possibility of such you would have no doubt already had the pleasure of meeting Miss Granger, as Longbottom would not have hesitated to present such a paragon to you ahead of tonight’s festivities. I do hope however that you have not dashed Miss Granger’s hopes of becoming the next Countess of Longbottom.”

“I am pleased to know that I have made such a good impression on Lord Longbottom, and must admit to having much enjoyed our conversations since our first meeting. He did speak to me a little of that affection you mention, so you need not fear my falling into a fit of the dismals or becoming a watering pot before your eyes.” Hermione was gratified to see a hint of amusement in the Viscount’s eyes at this response.

“I regret that I am engaged for the supper dance which follows this, but perhaps I am not yet too late to reserve the set immediately following the interval?” enquired the Duke. He found that he was indeed fortunate in that Hermione had not yet engaged herself for that set. On noticing that she had no name written against the supper dance, he glanced meaningfully at his uncle, who rose to the occasion admirably.

“Miss Granger, I wonder if you would do me the honour of joining me for the supper dance?” was the softly spoken request from the Viscount.

“If you truly wish to condemn yourself to my company I should be pleased to accept your invitation” responded Hermione, quaking inwardly as she had heard from the other girls how rarely he deigned to join a set. Her nerves were only increased when she recalled being told that he had not been seen providing company over the supper interval in many years, unless his nephew somehow found himself free of such a duty.

“I am not in the habit of idly inviting young ladies to dance Miss Granger. The request was sincerely meant – as my nephew has already suggested you have been recommended to us both as being possessed of more than cotton wool in your head. I am told that you have an interest in Lord Elgin’s Marbles?

“I must admit to only a slight knowledge of their significance, Lord Fitzroy. I have been constrained by the lack of information available to those of us who are unable to take advantage of the educational opportunities too many young men squander when up at Oxford. My father was used to share his Royal Society journals with me, but the subscription lapsed at his demise.”

“In that case I shall look forward to imparting my own knowledge when we make our visit. At the least I now know I shall have one person who will attend me rather than dreaming of curricle racing!” A sideways glance by the Viscount and a responding guilty look in the eyes of the Duke showed who was the subject of this pointed barb, although the smiles of both also showed that no insult was meant or taken. At this point the set began forming for the final dance before supper and so, with a brief bow, the Duke left to search out his partner, leaving his uncle to escort Hermione onto the floor in readiness.

Supper passed most pleasantly, with Hermione able to enjoy the company not only of the Viscount, but the Duke and the Vicomte de Malfoi. She had previously met the Duke’s supper partner in various drawing rooms, and knew her to be equal to any conversational gambit that might occur, while the Vicomte was squiring his mother, who proved to have a ready sense of humour and shared tales of her own first Season with many mentions of the quizzes she wore at that time thinking them to be the first stare of fashion. As the Viscount showed his discerning palate in selecting from the various patties and other morsels provided by Longbottom’s French chef only the choicest items she found herself at the end of the supper interval refreshed both in appetite and mood, and ready to partake once more of wider company. She had particularly enjoyed being able to view the contrast of the Vicomte and the Duke; both clad in dark colours obviously purchased from a master of tailoring, but their countenances so different as to be almost perfect mirrors of each other. Still, the interval could not last long, despite the wishes of those at that particular table, and they found themselves recalled to the conviviality of the dance floor.

Taking the Duke’s arm as he escorted her back to the ballroom she was aware that once more she was finding herself barely able to produce even the most minor of civil whiskers, let alone remarks such as would confirm her reputation for intelligence rather than suggest that Lord Longbottom had been passing Canterbury tales when speaking of it. Indeed she felt certain that His Grace must think her quite hen-witted as she found he had to repeat himself a number of times to allow her to catch his meaning and make a suitable response. It was with gratitude that she heard the opening chords from the orchestra, and sank into the deep curtsey required as the opening figure.

At the end of the dance she made her excuses and fled to the ladies retiring-room in hopes of cooling her cheeks and generally recovering her composure. She found a chair in the far corner, shaded from the door by a large screen, and thankfully sipped at a glass of lemonade provided by the maid assigned to the room. She had not been there above a minute when she heard the door open, and then two girls continue a conversation obviously begun outside the room.

“Did you see that Miss Granger person making cow-eyes at Malfoi and Peverell?” floated an unknown voice. Hermione immediately knew she could not make her presence known as had been her intention when she first heard the door, and so attempted to ignore the chattering by reciting to herself Mr Wordsworth’s ‘White Doe of Rylstone’.

“Yes. I must admit that she was not at all what I was expecting having heard her described as a diamond of the first water by my brother” was the response. “Her hair is such a dull shade, and as for her dress – why you would have thought she could have afforded some ribbons at least to enliven it if her fortune is as large as reported!”

“Perhaps it is not so large and she is merely on the lookout for a husband who’s swimming in lard? Her name is nothing special, and no matter how much Lady Ross may favour her she cannot have much above her widow’s portion to bestow. I fear Fitzroy must have been sadly disappointed in his choice to act as her squire for supper.”

“We shall see, I suppose, if any of them bother to take up a second set with her. Now, I believe the waltz must be ending and I am promised to Malfoi myself for the next so let us return to our mothers.” Hermione was thankful to hear the two depart, and took a deep breath or three before herself returning as she knew Lord Longbottom would be looking for her also for the next.

That gentleman could not forbear from teasing his new friend over her reaction to his oldest compatriots.

“Did I see you finally toppled from your Galatean pillar, Miss Granger?” he remarked as they promenaded back to Lady Ross at the end of the set. “I could not help but notice that you seemed to be making a careful study of the pair over upper.”

“Unkind! Truly have you no mercy for me this eve?” riposted Hermione. “You must admit they provide a striking contrast to one another, especially when placed so closely?”

“True indeed, but surely you will in turn forgive me for taking what advantage I can when you outclass me so in most conversational matters?”

“I suppose so, though it is truly too bad of you to twit me on it. Even your prior descriptions could not fully prepare me for the sight of the Vicomte in full fig. I assume I was seeing him show the work of Weston tonight?”

“You were, and I can confide in you that the Duke prefers the fit of Stultz, so in your comparisons you may add their choice of tailor.” With this the pair had arrived at the corner appropriated for use by the Ladies Ross and Longbottom, and so the conversation became more general as it expanded to include those estimable persons.

Later in the evening, Hermione allowed herself a secret pang of smugness when Viscount Fitzroy begged her company for a second quadrille, hoping that whoever had been her unknowing companions in the retiring-room were in a good position to see him break his own tradition to do so. That this was followed immediately by the set previously spoken for by the Vicomte de Malfoi meant that she was able to spend the interim in exchanging remarks with both gentlemen, where she hoped she had recovered her standing with them both. Again she was aware of the contrast between her companions, this time exacerbated by their eyes, as the silver of one acted as a mirror to the darkness of the other.

Finally she found that the ball had almost come to its end, and only the final dance remained to be performed. To her joy she saw the Duke of Peverell approaching, and was surprised to realise that he had no prior engagement for the set. She could only be thankful that she had not promised the set herself elsewhere as he bowed slightly to her as she sat by Lady Ross in expectation of acting as a spectator of the final figures of the evening. With a nod of approval from Lady Ross she rose, and took her place in the circle for the Sir Roger de Coverley which would close the ball. As the music began it seemed to trigger an almost dreamlike state, and she found that her attention was caught often by the emerald gaze of her dance partner. It seemed like no time and yet forever until the dance was over, and she was returned to her guardian with a slight press of her hand as it rested on his arm.

Lady Ross found that her attempts at conversation in the coach as they made their way back to the townhouse were in vain, for Hermione seemed incapable of ceasing to hum the melody played for the final dance. The Dowager Countess, after the fourth remark was either ignored or replied to in such a random ways to be nonsensical, gave up and occupied herself in hopes that she would yet be ordering orange blossoms before the Season was complete.


	6. Chapter 6

Hermione felt as though she was floating as she walked through the house to her room, where Sarah was waiting to assist her in divesting herself of her finery. She could barely hear her maid’s questions over the melodies replaying themselves in her head as she thought back over the evening’s occurrences. Eventually Sarah realised, as had Lady Ross before her, that nothing was to be achieved in attempting to converse with Hermione, and allowed silence to reign. Before long, Hermione was tucked up safely in her bed, and the maid quietly slipped from the room, grinning to see the soft smile on Hermione’s face as she lay there.

The next morning saw Hermione still in alt, although she was at least capable now of conversing with some semblance of her normal intelligence over the breakfast cups. Lady Ross gently twitted her over her lack of sense on their journey home the previous evening, but it was done in such a gentle tone that Hermione found she could not mind her guardian’s amusement at her expense. They were barely finished their repast, and were walking together to the morning room when a footman approached bearing a nosegay of diosma and lunaria, and presented it to Hermione.

“Well, now, girl, which of your squires has beaten his fellows off the mark to present you such a tribute?” quizzed Lady Ross. “Diosma is a pretty compliment indeed and not at all in the common way”.

Hermione glanced over the card, which held no message save a single word – the name of her admirer. “It appears that I must have made a better impression on Viscount Fitzroy than I feared. I am most surprised that he should send me such an offering, though not that he should couch it in such terms. Such a flower from another gentleman I would dismiss as chosen for its colour or scent alone, but I suspect the Viscount leaves nothing to chance.”

“You would be right there, and I must admit myself that I am pleased that he should express such a sentiment; elegance is not an easy trait to display as a young girl, much less have it affect such a controlled gentleman so far as to have him reference it . I see that the flowers have already been placed in a vase, so let us find a spot to place the arrangement in the morning room, where we can both enjoy the sight of them.” With this, Lady Ross led the way into the room, and each lady settled herself to her choice of occupation. For Lady Ross, this consisted of reading through the various missives that had arrived that morning from her vast acquaintance, while Hermione chose to take up a volume of poetry to peruse.

For some time the ladies sat in comfortable silence, broken only by the occasional snort of laughter or indignation from Lady Ross over some particularly pointed piece of correspondence. Little did she know though that Hermione, far from being enthralled with the writings before her, was struggling to keep her mind from straying back to the previous evening. It seemed that even the very poets were in chorus in speaking to her of her feelings when faced with the gentlemen at the ball. This line would bring to mind silver eyes and thus the Vicomte de Malfoi, while this would call rather the strong shoulders and artfully mussed locks of the Duke. Turning the page gave no surcease, merely an alteration in the memories arising.

Hermione was lost in contemplation of the pleasing contrast provided her at supper, and trying to decide for herself whether she preferred lightness of eye and coiffure or dark hair and bright green in eye, when the footman entered the room once more. Two confections of flowers were presented to Hermione’s gaze, the first a simple bouquet of cheerful geraniums that she had no hesitation in ascribing to Lord Longbottom even before spotting his name upon the attached card, the other a riot of bright yellow ranunculus set amongst starwort.

“Lady Ross, I believe I must request your assistance in deciphering this message” Hermione began. “I have not in my readings found a meaning before for the humble buttercup”

“I believe the usual meaning is something along the lines of dazzling your admirer, while the starwort you know holds a meaning of welcome. You obviously made a strong impression upon one of your new acquaintances!”

Hermione coloured up at the thought and with much trepidation looked to the accompanying card. To her relief this time there was more than a name, although the written compliments were not less extravagant than the flowered ones.

“It would appear that I have to thank not only the Vicomte de Malfoi for this unusual display, but his esteemed mother. I must admit myself to having been charmed by them both in my turn, and must further confess that had I not known the Vicomte to be without siblings I should have thought her his sister rather than his mother she seemed so youthful.”

“I think you will find that the Vicomtesse was married almost out of the schoolroom. I don’t believe she was presented until after her marriage, which was arranged by her father and the present Vicomte’s grandfather.  There are many who are surprised that she has remained unattached for so long as a widow – you do know that the previous Vicomte was a victim of the Terror that swept through France?”

“Yes, although I am not quite sure how the current Vicomte and his mother escaped.”

“I believe they were here so she could present the new heir to her family. The Vicomte was not even out of leading strings when he ascended to the title, and the pair were left without a feather to fly with as the saying goes. Fortunately he and his mother were welcomed into her family home, and in time he caught the fancy of her uncle Alphard Black, who left him his fortune. He must have been full of juice as the Vicomte has always been extravagant in his dress. Then of course he inherited the Black title and estate when his mother’s reprobate cousin Sirius got himself involved in that silly duel and allowed himself to be winged. If only he’d had a wife to insist upon his being properly cared for, if she could not have prevented the meeting occurring at all, it would not have carried him off to meet Charon.”

With that the conversation lapsed once more, and the ladies returned to their previous occupations. Hermione found she was contrasting the sober and reserved sentiments of the first posy with the more extravagant ones of the third, and was surprised to find that even the finest pair of silver eyes she had ever seen could not cause her to prefer the latter. She wondered if she would be as struck by them the next time she saw them in person, rather than memory, and came to the conclusion that it had been partly the unexpectedness of that first sighting, and the overall effect of the finery he had been sporting, so she could hope that future encounters would not leave her imitating the silliest of the blushing maidens she had met the previous evening.

Thoughts of such behaviour could not but lead her to consider further her own responses, and how they had differed over the evening, from what she was ashamed to admit even to herself was boredom when faced with one particular gentleman to barely being able to speak when dancing with the Duke of Peverell. Even as she thought this she felt herself colour up, and hoped that Lady Ross was too far ensconced in her correspondence to notice. She was not so lucky, though as that lady had a very good idea as to what thoughts could be raising roses in the cheeks of her young companion she merely smiled to herself and returned to deciphering the crossed and re-crossed writings of an old friend who had written describing the antics of her latest grandchild at much length. Lady Ross hoped that she had already seen the first signs that she would not have to wait too much longer to be able to write such a letter herself albeit if her position were to be honorary rather than actual.

Safe in ignorance of how closely she was being observed Hermione continued to think back over the time she had spent dancing with the Duke, and conversing with all three men during the supper interval. The morning’s gifts led her to hope that she had not made such a mull of things as she had feared at the time, and she began to look with anticipation to her next meetings with her new acquaintances; she did not dare, even to herself, to refer to them so familiarly as friends or even more daringly beaux! Sighing softly, she returned her attention to the book she had held so unusually ignored while lost in her contemplations, and began once more to read the words Mr Wordsworth had penned so lyrically of the glories of the humble daffodil.

Scarcely had she reached the second stanza, when again their idyll was disturbed by the entrance of a footman bearing a gift of flowers. This time though it was a larger arrangement, arrayed in a silver vase, which almost obscured the footman’s face so that Hermione was amazed that he did not trip or otherwise clumsily knock any of the furniture as he moved through the room. He placed the vase on the side table near Hermione’s chair and bowed before withdrawing and leaving the ladies to their privacy. Lady Ross spared no thought to dissembling her interest but rather turned and stared pointedly at Hermione until she reached for the card. To Hermione’s slight surprise the arrangement was not accompanied by a long letter, but the simple phrase ‘Until we meet again, Peverell’, underscored though it was by the magnificent seal used by the Duke on all his personal correspondence.

“Well”, began Lady Ross, looking with much amusement at the consternation on Hermione’s face at this short address, “Shall we decipher His Grace’s message to you as he seems to feel the flowers shall speak for him?” Hermione nodded thankfully, feeling overwhelmed by the abundance before her.

“I know the wisteria is ‘welcome’ Lady Ross, and I believe that gardenias signify refinement.”

“And though you blush to say it yourself, you also know that the calla lilies speak of your beauty. His Grace obviously found naught to displease his eye in your countenance yester eve.” Hermione blushed again at this, and looked hurriedly at the bouquet for a way to move the conversation on.

“I am afraid I do not recognise these other flowers, the white or the purple” she ventured.

“Why you have both vervain and zephyr flowers there child, for enchantment and sincerity. Even the asparagus fern signifies his fascination. I do believe you may consider yourself to have captured His Grace’s attention most pleasingly. I should not be surprised if we were to see him here this afternoon in person as well as his having sent such a display of his regard. I doubt another girl in all of England has received such a tribute today, or even in many a year.”

“I own to being pleased to know that he thinks so well of me” replied Hermione, feeling the roses in her cheeks bloom even more as she spoke, “though I cannot but remember that I must have seemed most unlike myself and so must hope that he is not disappointed on our next meeting.”

“I doubt he will be my dear” came the reply. “He has been brought up by Viscount Fitzroy to appreciate the finest life can offer, and have a true appreciation for intelligence and kindness of heart, so I hope that further acquaintance with you will serve only to deepen his regard.” With that note, Lady Ross obviously regarded the conversation as closed and returned to her letters, leaving Hermione to the enjoyment of her flowers and the attempt to dissemble her daydreaming behind her volume of poems.


	7. Chapter 7

That afternoon saw a number of callers arrive at the townhouse, some in search of company, some looking for counterparts with whom to share gossip about the previous night’s ball and some simply paying calls of respect on partners with whom they’d shared a dance or two. Etiquette demanded some form of acknowledgement be made of a dance partner the following day, but often this consisted merely of leaving a card. More marked was the sending of flowers, or a personal appearance, and many gentlemen accompanied their mothers and sisters for this purpose as they made the rounds of their friends where on other days they would find themselves called away rather than face the ton’s drawing rooms.  
  
So, on this day, Lady Ross and Hermione sat in gentle conversation with their visitors as each arrived and stayed the prescribed minimum time before excusing themselves to move on to the next house. The Browns were one such family making their calls en masse, and Mr Brown was most complimentary to Hermione, thanking her for the pleasure of her dinner conversation. Mrs Brown made an arch comment as to the presence of the various floral additions to the room, to be greeted by a blush from Hermione and the twinkle of an eye from Lady Ross, but nothing was said of who the senders had been. Hermione had been careful to ensure that the various cards were secreted away from prying eyes and they were safe in her dressing table. That one particular card had been placed carefully aside that she might read it again with ease was something that Hermione would not mention, and her maid would feel was very much to be dealt with by her with the utmost discretion. As such it had not been mentioned generally behind the baize door so to speak, but a quiet murmur had been placed in the ear of Miss McDougal who could be relied upon to ensure her mistress was well-informed of all that might interest her within her walls.  
  
No information being forthcoming in response to Mrs Brown’s queries, she turned the conversation to general discourse upon the possible matches that had been made and, with suitable expressions of shock, the latest news of Prinny’s excesses. Miss Brown, meanwhile, took the opportunity to draw Hermione aside, in the hopes of having a little more private conversation as at that point no other visitors were present. The two girls settled on a loveseat some distance from the fire where their elders were grouped, and the subject returned forthwith to the subject of the hour, namely Hermione’s conquests amongst the most sought catches amongst the bachelors!  
  
“No more dissembling Hermione” began Lavender, hoping that the use of Christian names would remind her companion that they were more than mere acquaintances, as she had previously shared with Hermione her own tendre for the son of a friend of her father’s and her hopes that in time their parents might agree to the match. “Which of them sent you these wonderful flowers?”  
  
“If you will promise not to share it?” questioned Hermione, feeling she could not quite relax enough to share such news without asking this of her friend. Lavender nodded quickly in response, and gently took hold of one of Hermione’s hands to prevent her from starting to wring them. “Well, in that case, I received bouquets from the Earl of Longbottom, the Vicomte de Malfoi, Viscount Fitzroy and the Duke of Peverell.”  
  
“No wonder you blushed so when Mama asked! I do believe they are the four most eligible gentlemen at the moment, saving only the Royal Dukes. And to have Viscount Fitzroy not only stand up with you twice in one evening – including the supper dance no less – but to send you flowers as well! You must be in alt – and you will have put poor Miss Parkinson’s little pug nose completely out of joint for you know she feels she has some sort of claim on the Viscount and the Vicomte de Malfoi both. “ Hermione could only shrug at this, having only met Miss Parkinson briefly the previous evening, and not having spent any time with her beyond that required for an introduction. “I can guess that Longbottom sent you the geraniums, for he sent them to me also, but which of the other were responsible for that beautiful white and purple concoction?”  
  
“You are quite correct on the geraniums, Lavender, and I am pleased to hear that you were also a recipient. The large display was the gift of His Grace, while the ranunculus came from the Vicomte” admitted Hermione.  
  
“Then the final posy is that from Viscount Fitzroy?” Hermione barely had the chance to nod when to her surprise the butler announced the arrival of Viscount Fitzroy and the Duke of Peverell. She rose with a glance of apology to Lavender, and crossed the room to greet the two gentlemen.  
  
“Welcome to Ross House Your Grace, My Lord” she murmured with a curtsey. “May I take this opportunity to thank you both for your kind gifts?” At this she spotted each of the two giving the other a surprised glance, before they both smirked and bowed their response.  
  
“Please excuse me, I must greet our hostess” mentioned the Viscount before leaving to join the group by the fire in conversing on commonplaces while observing the interaction of the two thus left facing each other in the centre of the room.  
  
“Won’t you be seated Your Grace” invited Hermione, moving as she did toward the loveseat where Lavender waited.  
  
“Thank you, Miss Granger” responded the Duke, choosing a Chippendale oak chair and seating himself with a flick of his dark blue coat of superfine. “Miss Brown, a pleasure to meet you here” he continued. “I hope I have not interrupted a conversation of great import?”  
  
“Indeed not, Your Grace” replied Lavender. “I was merely enquiring as to who Miss Granger had to thank for such beautiful flowers.”  
  
Fortunately for the Duke, no response was required as at this point Mr and Mrs Brown began making their adieus, and Lavender was perforce required to join them. No sooner had they left than the butler returned, ushering in an abundance of redheads. This quickly resolved itself into its constituent parts, and while Lady Weasley took her position by Lady Ross, her daughter and youngest son made their way to the seating arrangement used by Hermione and the Duke.  
  
“Good afternoon Miss Granger”, began Miss Weasley, before being interrupted in her greetings by her brother.  
  
“Didn’t expect to see you here Peverell” he started, “not that I blame you for trying to get ahead of the crowd with respect to Miss Granger.”  
  
“I trust that I would not fail to pay such respects as are due to any lady of my acquaintance, Weasley” was the chilly response of the Duke to this remark, though he bowed civilly enough to both newcomers. “Miss Weasley, it is a pleasure to see you looking so well. I had feared it was illness that kept you away last eve?”  
  
“No, Your Grace. My mother found herself a little under the weather and so I stayed to bear her company” explained Miss Weasley. “My brother was engaged elsewhere or I am sure that my mother would have sent to request that Mrs Brown should act as my chaperone with his escort. As it was we spent a quiet evening and I am glad to say that she is much more herself this morning.”  
  
“I am pleased to hear that she is fully recovered. I had hoped to speak to her of a little outing that Lord Longbottom and I are trying to arrange, but today will work as well.” With this he turned slightly and caught his uncle’s eye.  
  
“Yes, Peverell?” queried the Viscount, on seeing that his nephew wished to break into the other conversation.  
  
“I was wondering if we might invite Lady Weasley and her children to join us on the proposed outing to view the Marbles?” started the Duke.  
  
“I was about to do so, young whippersnapper!” was the retort. “Lady, Weasley” he began, turning back to his companions by the fire. “It is the intention of my nephew and the Earl of Longbottom to get up a party of young people to view Lord Elgin’s Marbles. It was hoped that you would do us the honour of acting as chaperone for the young ladies, including of course your own charming daughter.” he explained.  
  
“I should be delighted to do so” responded Lady Weasley. “Perhaps you could confer with Lord Longbottom and determine which dates would suit you, and then let me know and we will make the venture on the first day we are all not otherwise engaged? Do you expect many in the party?”  
  
“Not so many, Lady Weasley. I would venture no more than a dozen, and more likely eight, including your good self, and possibly Mrs Brown also. I will confer with the Earl and we will endeavour to determine a mutually agreeable time before too long.” Thus was the final word on the subject from the Viscount. With an eye to the clock, he then rose, and made a bow to his hostess. “I fear I must take my leave Lady Ross, and depart in concert with my nephew. I hope it shall not be many days before we next meet.”  
  
The Duke also rose, and bowed briefly to the room at large, before leaving, glancing ruefully at Hermione in acknowledgement of their lack of private conversation.  
  
Scarcely had the occupants of the room settled themselves once more to try and take up the reins of conversations lost to the farewells than the Dowager Countess of Longbottom arrived, bringing with her none other than Viscountess Castlereagh.  
  
“Lady Longbottom, Lady Castlereagh, welcome indeed” started Lady Ross to these formidable ladies. “May I present Lady Weasley and her children Miss Weasley and the Honourable Ronald Weasley?” The famed Patroness nodded towards the Weasleys, and appeared mollified by the way Miss Weasley in particular greeted her with demurely downcast gaze. “And this, of course is my ward Miss Hermione Granger” continued Lady Ross.  
  
“A pleasure to meet you my lady.” Hermione greeted the Viscountess with much trepidation and a small curtsey before returning to her seat by Miss Weasley.  
  
Conversations continued quietly for some time before the Weasleys brought their visit to a close, to the gratitude of Hermione, who had found it rather difficult to find a common ground with Miss Weasley as her brother had an unfortunate tendency to attempt to bring the conversation round to such unsuitable topics as the likely chances of a friend’s horse in the main race at the coming weekend’s meeting. With the departure of the younger guests, Hermione moved to join her guardian and found herself seated by Lady Castlereagh who proceeded to quiz her thoroughly on her antecedents, in the politest manner possible.  
  
“Lady Ross, you are to be congratulated on your ward” was Lady Castlereagh’s pronouncement at the end of this catechism. “She has a pleasant way with her, and seems to have all the sense for which her mother’s family have been known. I shall arrange for vouchers to be sent, and expect her to be present at the next assembly. Do you know how to waltz, girl?”  
  
“I was taught the steps by my parents my lady, but have not yet performed in public.”  
  
“I should think not! Perhaps you should consider a lesson with a master prior to the assembly? Should I find a suitable partner for you I would have no hesitation in allowing you permission you understand?” This last was said with a significant glance towards Lady Ross and Lady Longbottom, who had clearly been filling her ears with the names of Hermione’s admirers.  
  
With the object of the visit – the close inspection of the girl already being described in many circles as the Diamond of the season – being achieved, Lady Castlereagh gathered herself and Lady Longbottom and the two left their hostesses to enjoy what little time of peace was left to them before the dinner hour arrived.


	8. Chapter 8

As promised, the Earl of Longbottom was consulted and he and Viscount Fitzroy decided upon a date for the proposed outing to the British Museum. Lady Weasley was agreeable to the date chosen, and so on that day, under the auspices of a fine spring afternoon sun, the Weasley town carriage called at the house in Mayfair to collect Hermione. Stepping into the carriage as she was handed up by a footman, Hermione found herself seated beside Lady Weasley, while Miss Weasley sat facing her mother, and her brother sat where he would be opposite Hermione. Greeting them all civilly, she was thankful that it was only a short drive to the Museum, and so before long they were set down at the porticoed entrance, where they found the remaining members of the group awaiting them.

Hermione and Miss Weasley made their way over to where Miss Brown was standing exchanging conversation with her mother and the Earl of Longbottom, while the Weasley party directed their steps to where Viscount Fitzroy and the Duke of Peverell had just descended from the Duke’s phaeton. That gentleman, being finally happy that his groom had full instructions on the care of his horses during their visit; turned and greeted the group as a whole.

“Good morning,” began the Viscount, “shall we begin? The Museum has many treasures for our perusal, but as Lord Elgin’s Marbles are the aim of our outing this day, I suggest that we make our way there without hesitation, and so ensure we have no lack of time to complete their viewing?” As all were prepared to bow to the Viscount’s acknowledged expertise in the matter this course of action was followed without demur. The party naturally split as they could not proceed as a whole group without causing much obstruction in the passageways. Accordingly, each gentleman offered an arm to one of the young ladies, while Viscount Fitzroy, due to the inequality of the party, found himself between the two matriarchs, walking to the rear of the group so as to allow the ladies to fulfil their duties as chaperones.

A quick glance between the Weasley siblings had ensured that they manoeuvred themselves in such a way as to arrange that while Miss Weasley was directly beside the Duke, Miss Brown was left closer to the Earl, This left Hermione to accept the escort of Mr Weasley, and with an inwardly sinking heart she did so. As she expected that young gentleman immediately showed his lack of tact, choosing to open their conversation as they walked with what he clearly believed to be a delicate compliment.

“I say, Miss Granger that is a dashed pretty gown you have on today. M’ sister tells me you prefer Mme Fanchon’s creations and if this is her work I can understand why!” Hermione blushed at such plain-speaking, which might better have been addressed to a barque of frailty than a genteel young woman such as herself.

“I own I am pleased with the colour,” she interjected in hopes of preventing his becoming more explicit in his admiration. “Your sister looks well today; I must remember to ask her where she got her ribbons.” She hastened to change the topic under discussion, hoping that they would soon arrive at the viewing room. “Do you know anything of the history of the Marbles Mr Weasley?”

“Dashed if I do, Miss Granger” he returned, apparently oblivious to the fact that he was not addressing one of his brothers. “Can’t say I ever thought much of these old Greeks. They seem a fusty lot – always going on about gods as though they had no direction over their own lives.”

“I had thought many of the stories to be metaphorical in nature” ventured Hermione, hoping that she might find some way to cajole some serious thought from the brain of Mr Weasley. “I believe that a number of the Marbles depict scenes from the battle between the centaurs and the Lapiths,” she continued.

“Centaurs? You mean those half man half horse creatures? Dashed waste of horseflesh that if you ask me!” was the only response before to Hermione’s gratitude she realised they had arrived at the viewing room. The group gathered together, with Viscount Fitzroy at their centre so that they could all hear his remarks.

“There are two main sets within the Marbles” he began by saying. “These are from the frieze which ran around the whole of the inner chamber and from the outer South wall of the temple as a whole. The former are to our left and depict various figures in a large procession. The latter are on the wall to our right, and depict various scenes from the myth of the Lapiths and the battle they waged with the centaurs following the wedding of their king Pirithous.” With this he gestured to direct the group to move to view the Marbles. A speaking glance to his nephew saw that gentleman immediately offer his arm to Hermione, while Miss Brown retained her hand upon that of the Earl. The Weasley siblings were thus left to one another, although they did their best to attach themselves to the Duke and his fair companion.

Some time passed as the group made their way round the room, stopping now and again to inspect one piece or another in more detail. It quickly became obvious that neither Miss Brown nor the Weasleys had much interest in the Marbles, nor the scenes they depicted, but Mrs Brown was pleased to see that her daughter at least was able to simulate enough interest to allow her escort to view them without feeling he was disregarding her. Little did Mrs Brown know that the Earl and her daughter were not exchanging comments on the Marbles, but rather on their combined amusement at the ever more obvious attempts by the Weasleys to draw the Duke and Hermione apart so that they might reform their original couples.

Lady Weasley could obviously discern that her hopes were not to come to fruition at any point soon if she left it to her offspring to arrange the course of events. She began by declaring herself fatigued, and then appealed to Viscount Fitzroy to direct her to a chair, claiming that she was feeling faint. This had the desired effect of causing the visit to the viewing room to be curtailed, but unhappily for Lady Weasley she found herself escorted back to her carriage where it was waiting for her return. Viscount Fitzroy handed her up with much display of assiduous concern for her well-being, and then insisted that she be accompanied on her return home by both her children, with the easy explanation that of course she would want her daughter in attendance if she were not well, while he could not feel easy sending the two women off with only their coachman to provide to their safety, and who better to do such a thing than her son. Mentions of Miss Granger were dealt with by the expediency of simply informing the matron that as Mrs Brown as in attendance she need not fear for her charge’s safety as said charge would be taken up by Mrs Brown immediately.

Having seen the carriage turn the corner, he enquired of the group if they wished to return to the viewing room. While Hermione would have been in agreement with this plan, it was clear that Mrs and Miss Brown both felt they had seen sufficient for them to believe themselves well done with the objects, and so instead the group turned to the tea room in search of refreshment. Scarcely had they been seated though than they saw entering the Vicomte de Malfoi, escorting his mother and apparently also in search of a dish of tea. Espying their friends already in the room they came over to join them, with the servants hurrying to fetch additional chairs for the newcomers.

Conversation was subdued to begin with, but soon became animated as all those present realised they were in the company of like-minded parties, with the Vicomtesse de Malfoi again proving herself equal to the task of providing a ceaseless run of tales to illustrate whichever point was next raised. Hermione was pleased to be able to discuss the subjects depicted by the Marbles with more success than her earlier endeavour when she opened the topic with the Viscount. Looking back later she was to be amazed at the ease with which she found herself debating the possible causes of the centaur’ battle, and was thankful for the many hours she had spent in such discussions with her father. She was conscious also of the approving glances she received from all the younger gentlemen as she parried words with their elder.

Eventually though, all had to admit they could not drink another drop, and so the groups turned to arranging their party for the trip home. Mrs Brown and Miss Brown had been brought by the Earl of Longbottom in his curricle and so did not have room for hormone on the return trip. The Vicomte offered to take her up with him, but it had to be admitted that his townhouse lay in the opposite direction. The Duke then suggested that he escort Miss Granger home and, after consulting with the Vicomtesse on the propriety of the offer and being reassured that as the phaeton was an open carriage nothing ill could be viewed of it, Hermione accepted with pleasure. Her concern for the Viscount being put out of the phaeton to make room for her was met with the advice that the Viscount would be joining the Malfois in their carriage.

Hermione much enjoyed the journey home, once she became used to the height from which she viewed the road. She was later to discover that the Duke preferred a high-perch phaeton, which was regarded as being the choice only of those most gifted as horsemen. Thankfully for her composure, she had no knowledge of the ease with which such equipages could overturn in unskilled hands, and so was able to place complete confidence in the Duke’s ability to see her safely back to Lady Ross’ house. Nor was she aware of the many eyes which held a touch of jealousy to see her seated beside the Duke, where none of the fairer sex had ever before been positioned. So quickly did the news pass from mouth to ear that it preceded her arrival in Mayfair, and so Lady Ross was unsurprised to see her arrive home with the self-same look in her eyes she had sported on their return from the Longbottom ball the previous week.

Wise to the ways of young girls on the threshold of adult emotion, Lady Ross did no more than enquire generally into the happenings of the afternoon, and made no mention of the change of escort on Hermione’s return trip. She made a note to herself to make sure to send word to Hermione’s trustee that it looked as though his services would not be needed for much longer after all, secure in the knowledge that that august gentleman would join her in wishing Miss Granger well rather than bemoan the loss of income that such news could presage.


	9. Chapter 9

While Hermione had been enjoying her journey home in the company of the Duke of Peverell, her erstwhile companions had themselves been making their way to their various homes. Not all the carriages had conveyed passengers in quite such charity with the world at large as had the phaeton that Duke drove with such aplomb. Mrs Brown was fatigued, and concerned that despite the presence of four such eligible gentlemen it did not appear as if her daughter were any nearer to making a match. Miss Brown and the Earl of Longbottom had no such worries to cloud their thoughts and felt the project to have been quite as successful as they could have hoped for in the end; at least once the Weasleys had been seen off at any rate! They managed to conduct a dialogue consisting entirely of glances and the occasional raised eyebrow, in which they agreed that they would continue their unspoken plans to arrange meetings between Hermione and the Duke, as both agreed that the pair were well-suited and wished their friends all the blessings of matrimonial bliss.

The Malfoi coach took all three of its passengers back to the house occupied by its master, where Viscount Fitzroy had been prevailed upon to join his godson and the Vicomtesse for a glass of Madeira before making his way home by dint of the Vicomte suggesting that he would welcome the opportunity to consult his godfather over a small estate matter that was awaiting his decision. This being but a trifle it was soon dealt with by the two men, who then re-joined the Vicomte’s mother for refreshments and conversation. At the end of a most pleasant hour the Viscount moved to make his farewells, only to be invited to accompany the Vicomte further as that gentleman intended on dining at his club that evening, which place was the Viscount’s avowed destination also.

“I cannot help but note Fitzroy that my mother smiles a little brighter in your company lately than I remember from my childhood” was the Vicomte’s opening remark when they were ensconced in his coach and the door well-shut by the footman. “Should I be expecting a request before too many days longer to exchange your title of Godfather for one more nearly related to me?”

The Viscount merely raised an eyebrow at such plain speaking from his companion, who sighed inwardly that such a brave opener should not have hit more squarely and provoked a reaction such as he had been hoping for. Viscount Fitzroy meanwhile was thinking back over his recent interactions with the Vicomtesse, looking to see if such a partiality had indeed been present in her manner toward him, and wondering if he had inadvertently betrayed his own long-withheld emotions in the matter.

“I have held that title for many years, and have no wish to reject it at this point, although you are certainly old enough to make use of my given name in private should you wish. I own it had not occurred to me that another was available nor am I certain even now that it could be the case. Your mother has ever been the subject of much admiration for many of her peers and mine, and I have seen no sign that she has ever considered exchanging her widowhood for the position of wife to any man.”

“You of all people know that her marriage to my father was not all that she might have hoped for, even though it fulfilled my grandfathers’ plans exactly. There were good reasons why she brought me to England that summer, thankful though I am that she did so given the events that overcame my father, and I have no idealised picture of his treatment of her in the time they were married. There is a good part of me that wonders what would have become of my character had he lived to inculcate in me that pride and even arrogance which I believe was his overriding precept. I have hope though that between the two of you both you and my mother would have prevented my complete ruin.”

“You do me much honour by that thought, and in the spirit of frankness which you appear to have brought upon us I do agree that your parents’ marriage was not all that your mother hoped for when she entered into that state. This only exacerbates my belief that she will not wish to risk such a venture again, regardless of the potential partner in question.” At this point the carriage had drawn up outside Hogwarts, and the two gentlemen ceased the subject before any risk was run of it being overheard by servants or other club members.

Walking into the club they acknowledged greetings from various members, including the two Dumbledore brothers who were in their usual seats by the fireside in the front parlour, with their good view of both the street outside and the door from the entrance hall that allowed them to see all who passed through the club’s doors. No one seemed to know how old the two were, nor what had been the cause of their initial disagreement, but they had held court for as long as anyone could remember, one each side of the fire, but always ignoring the other’s very presence. They were widely acknowledged as the best persons to confer with over any minor problems, although they had differing points of view, and many members had a preferred brother to act as confidante.

Passing through the room, Viscount Fitzroy and the Vicomte paused briefly at the door to the back parlour, where they ordered dinner before moving to settle at an unoccupied table. Wine was not long in being brought to them, and once approved and poured out the two moved to other topics.

“What did you make of today’s events then Fitzroy?” questioned the Vicomte, curious to know if his own observations were confirmed by those of his mentor, who had the advantage of both better knowledge of the parties involved and longer time in which to compare their behaviours. “Miss Granger seems to have much improved on further acquaintance and I can see now why Longbottom has been singing her praises so much given his prior attachment.”

“Indeed,” murmured the Viscount. “I admit that her knowledge of the Marbles was more than I had expected, and even more was her ability to discuss the legends depicted therein. I own that after the Longbottoms’ ball I believed her vaunted intelligence to have been somewhat exaggerated, or at least that it was confined to those subjects dear to the Earl’s heart, but it appears that he was not facing us with a bouncer on that score.”

“So you would welcome her as a niece? Peverell seemed truly enchanted, both at the ball and this afternoon. I have not seen him so solicitous of a female on any occasion that I can recall.”

“It certainly appears as though I must resign myself to the possibility, and so I can only be thankful that he seems to have settled on a girl of such good standing, not only in her family and background but in her personal attributes. You have shown a degree of partiality in that direction yourself, Draco. Are you concerned that Miss Granger seems to have overcome the enchantment with you that she attempted so earnestly to disguise at the Longbottoms’ ball?”

“You need have no fear on my behalf, Fitzroy. While I admit that I could not help but notice that her gaze strayed my way many times that evening, it was clear to me even as she left that I would be but a poor consolation to her should Peverell not come up to scratch. Besides, I have no wish to be leg-shackled any time soon – if nothing else I have no need to provide myself with a hostess for Black Manor unless my mother should depart its hallowed halls. And we have already discussed the likelihood of that circumstance arising in the near future at least!” With this the gentlemen agreed to let the subject drop and turned their full attention to the beef-steaks that were before them.

The Weasleys meanwhile had not enjoyed such an agreeable departure from the Museum, for scarcely had the carriage drawn out of hearing distance of the party remaining there than Mrs Weasley had turned in agitation to her offspring.

“Well, that was a great mull the pair of you made of that opportunity!” she exclaimed. “You both know that you need to make the most of such chances. Your father is almost cleaned-out having had to purchase no less than three commissions for your elder brothers, and if you wish to find yourselves with a feather to fly with you will both need to make good marriages. Ginevra, you must make more of any chance to entice a well-inlaid young gentleman to make you an offer, before the bloom has gone from your cheeks, or worse we should find ourselves quite at Point Non Plus and forced to retreat to Aunt Muriel’s estates in Cumberland in order to make economies.”

“I fear that none of our escorts today were in a position to even do more than glance at me Mama” retorted Miss Weasley. “I do believe the Earl cares for no one as much as he does his hothouses, and the Duke seemed much taken with Miss Granger.” Miss Weasley could not know how wrong she was in this, as the Earl had not admitted even to those most in his confidence his affection for the daughter of his eccentric neighbour, for that young lady was not yet officially out. He was waiting impatiently for the time when he could proudly declare himself, and could only hope that she would remain as steadfast as had he since the summer’s day years before when they had, as young children, innocently promised each other that they should marry once old enough to do so.

“Yes, well there wasn’t much point in my pursuing Miss Brown – everyone knows she has but a modest portion to bring with her given that she has many younger sisters to be dowered after her.” Mr Weasley made haste to point out his limited opportunities given the signs that his mother was nearing a fit of the vapours at the thought of having lost ground in her campaign to see all her children settled into at least competencies. “Miss Granger seems a little too clever for my taste, but no doubt I could overlook that given the blunt she has. She seemed to have eyes for either the Vicomte or the Duke, and I suppose that with the Countess of Ross as her sponsor she may look as high as anyone for a husband.”

“Even such a well-set young girl may be brought to heel should you wish Ronald” was the response of his parent. “Perhaps we should consider a more aggressive courting of her hand than we had hitherto planned. After all, no girl is immune to the damage that would fall should she lose her reputation. We shall have to look for opportunities to make it appear that she favours you even above her titled admirers.” With this the lady retreated into her thoughts and left her offspring to consider separately their own plans to secure their futures through advantageous matches. Both were less sanguine than their mother on their future chances though, being well aware that as the last of such a long family it was widely known that they would be in search of money in any partners in matrimony.


	10. Chapter 10

That day was the last for many that Hermione was able to leave the house, for the weather changed and an unseasonable rain set in so that none who could left the shelter of good solid walls and roof. Fires were lit at all hours in the downstairs rooms, and Hermione, with tacit permission from Lady Ross, whiled away the time in losing herself in the tomes to be found in the Ross library.

By the end of a sennight, all in the house were glad to wake to see that the sun had once more appeared, and chased away the rainclouds that had been covering the sky. After breakfast therefore, Hermione indicated her wish to take the opportunity to seek some exercise in the small park in the square.

“I would advise against that course of action my dear,” was the surprising response from Lady Ross, who Hermione had expected to merely remind her to take Sarah with her for company. “Grosvenor Square is so planted with trees that you would likely find yourself wet through before you had completed a single circuit. I have no wish for you to contract an influenza at this point in the Season dear!” Hermione’s face fell, as even though an avowed bookworm she was used to spending at least part of each day in the gardens at her parents’ home and found herself longing to explore nature rather than literature for a change.

“If you wish, you may go further afield. I have no objection to your venturing so far as Hyde Park, so long as you take one of the footmen as well as Sarah and ensure you are wearing your warmest pelisse as well as half-boots. The ground will be damp underfoot even if the day is dry, and your light pumps would be no match for the mud you are likely to encounter.”

“Thank you for your advice, Lady Ross,” replied Hermione. “I would be glad to follow your suggestion and if Robert can be spared would appreciate the additional escort if I am to venture so far as Hyde Park this morning.”

Thus was Hermione to be found some half-hour later leaving the townhouse accompanied by her protectors, well bundled against the ill humours that might be lurking in the air. The journey to Hyde Park was soon accomplished, even though the party of three were on foot, with Hermione discussing in low tones with her maid her planned toilette for the expected appearance at Almack’s later that week and the footman following two paces behind as was expected. Hermione was a favourite with many of the servants, for she had soon been seen by them to be careful not to make unnecessary work for them unlike many young ladies their comrades in other houses had to serve. Accordingly, the whole household were happy to provide any service she did require, and the footmen had almost come to blows below stairs for the honour of acting her escort that morning before the butler had intervened.

On reaching the park Hermione found that she was by far not the only member of the ton to be taking advantage of the break in the rain and much time was spent in exchanging greetings with the various persons she met, both those on foot as well as those either riding horses or driving in various carriages. Indeed some of the paths were so crowded that she found it impossible to pass that way and was eventually dismayed to realise how far she had moved away from the gates back to the street that formed her way home.

At this point she was hailed once more from a passing landau which pulled up soon after and allowed one of its occupants to jump down and come back to meet her.

“’Pon rep, ‘tis good to see you Miss Granger” greeted the Earl of Longbottom. “M’ grandmother would like to invite you to step up into her carriage for a while as she would speak with you a moment. If you wish to dismiss your servants she will offer you her countenance and return you home safely.” Hermione nodded at this and turned to ensure the footman would accompany Sarah directly home, as she knew that even here there were those who would prey on an unaccompanied young female. Turning back, she accepted the Earl’s arm and they made their way to the waiting landau.

“Good morning Lady Longbottom” began Hermione on gaining her seat and hearing the coachman give the horses their office. “I am pleased to see you in good health this day, and hope you have not been badly fatigued by the lack of discourse these past days?” 

Had Lady Longbottom been other than of the highest ton a passer-by would have had no hesitation in reporting the sound that she emitted as being a snort. As it was, it was of course obvious that no such thing could be true.

“When one reaches my station in life gel, one becomes accustomed to a lack of intelligent conversation. Even one’s family cannot be relied upon,” she stated, with a decided glance towards her grandson.

“I’m afraid my grandmother has little interest in hothouses, beyond the pleasure provided by their contents” responded the Earl, with a soft smile, for he knew well that despite her formidable demeanour his grandmother had never failed to support him in his pursuit of knowledge on this subject. “And I have less interest in the matters of household management, beyond ensuring that I have fires in my rooms and food upon my tables when needed.”

“Something tells me you are not unusual amongst the gentlemen, Lord Longbottom. I have no doubt that many a peer would be unable to begin to run his domestic household no matter how diligent he may be about the matters of his estate at large.” Hermione returned this sally with a noticeable twinkle in her eye. “Still, would life not be most lacking in amusement had we all the same interests?” Her companions both indicated agreement to this notion, and the conversation lapsed while the occupants greeted those of a second coach which drew up beside them at that moment.

Pleasantries complete, once more the horses were given their instructions and the landau continued in its procession down the park path until it met a phaeton bearing the arms of the Vicomte de Malfoi. Seated therein looking not a day above thirty in a gown of Pomona green was the Vicomtesse, accompanied by the Viscount Fitzroy. The two were in good spirits, evidently having spent some time already in enjoying the air.

“And where is that rapscallion of a nephew of yours Fitzroy?” opened Lady Longbottom. ”Don’t tell me you have left him alone in Peverell House? I can’t see a sportsman such as he failing to take the chance to exercise at least one of his stable today.”

“You are quite correct as always Lady Longbottom” responded Viscount Fitzroy with a bow of his head towards the Dowager. “His Grace is due to meet us here soon, having spent some time in allowing his stallion to run off the worst of his nerves before joining us amongst the throng we see before us. My godson is with him, so we can only hope that they remember their promise to behave as grown gentlemen and do not find themselves carried away in attempting to outdo one another”

“I do believe that they both have grown past their schooldays scrapes” was the quiet comment of the Earl to this animadversion upon his childhood companions.

The carriages were about to draw apart when over the crest of the path came two horsemen. The picture they presented was one that seemed almost to have come from the pages of the latest novel, for while the Duke of Peverell rode a magnificent grey, the Vicomte’s steed was a great brute of a black stallion. The contrast with each other was such as drew admiring glances from every direction, while the blowing of the horses gave the impression that they had been ridden hard, yet their riders seemed not a whit disarrayed. Even their Hessians still gleamed in the sunshine, with nary a spot of mud to spoil the hours of works their valets had put into preparing the surface to a mirror gloss.

Picking their way through the throng, the two made their way to the spot where the carriages awaited them, greeting the occupants easily as they arrived. It quickly became clear that they were attracting a great deal of attention from other visitors to the park, both because of their status – after all here was that Season’s avowed Diamond in company of four of the most eligible bachelors on the marriage mart that year – and because they were causing an obstruction on the pathway as they sat with the two carriages abreast from one another. Seeing this, the Duke gestured to his comrades that they should turn down a less used track, and there rearrange their parties, and upon receiving acknowledgement of the sense in such a plan led the way.

Once the main bridleway was again clear for public use, he approached the landau, and with a significant glance to his uncle addressed himself to Hermione.

“I hope I may prevail upon you to promenade with me a little Miss Granger,” he began, “I own I had not anticipated the possibility of such a fascinating companion or I should have agreed to restrain myself to the carriage with my uncle.” The Duke was clearly well aware that should his invitation be accepted he would of necessity bring with him the unmistakable odour of horse. Hermione looked uncertainly to her duenna, unsure of the acceptability of walking with the Duke without at the least an accompanying maid.

“Perhaps, Miss Granger, you would allow Madame la Vicomtesse and me to join you on your stroll?” suggested Viscount Fitzroy, in response to the wordless entreaty he had received from his nephew but a few moments earlier. The Vicomtesse made clear her agreement to the scheme by beginning to gather her skirts in readiness to descend from the carriage, while the Countess of Longbottom gave a barely imperceptible nod when Hermione again looked to her for instruction.

“I should be glad to do so,” replied Hermione, “only will your horse not take harm in being left to stand after what appears to have been a long gallop?”

“Fear not, Miss Granger” replied the Duke. “I shall turn him to the care of the Vicomte de Malfoi’s groom, with his permission, who shall see that he is walked sufficiently not to take a chill.”

“I should be glad to also offer you the benefit of my carriage to see you home Miss Granger” was the offering of the Vicomtesse, “so that we may make our farewells here to Lord and Lady Longbottom.” Hermione was pleased to acquiesce to this invitation, and prettily made known to her current hosts her appreciation for their care to that point before finding that His Grace had put action to his words and was even now waiting to hand her down from the landau. A final exchange of courtesies and that equipage set off to bear the Countess of Longbottom on her way back home before transporting her grandson on his way to more masculine environs.


	11. Chapter 11

Meanwhile the Vicomte de Malfoi saw to the instructions required to his coachman regarding the walking of the horses under his care, and then with a signal to the groom now in the saddle of the Duke’s grey turned his own steed back into the park, and with a delicate bow to his mother and her companions made it known that he would ride back to the mews in company with the groom. The four left on foot then arranged themselves into two pairs, with the younger strolling slightly in front of their superiors in age.

“I am glad to see that the recent poor weather has not caused in you a decline” started the Duke as he drew Hermione hand into the crook of his arm and began walking down the footpath towards a nearby vista point. “I fear many find such times of limited company a strain upon their nerves.”

“Indeed no my lord,” was her reply. “I have been fortunate enough to be blessed with permission to make Lady Ross’ library my own, and have since my childhood been able to while away many an hour in such a room without need of company. Had I not been able to find such convivial companions as are to be found within the pages of ‘Waverley’ I can quite see that the days may have seemed long indeed.”

“I must admit that I have not read that novel, nor many others. I am afraid I am more like to be found out of doors when possible. I doubt not but that my uncle must have despaired at times in attempting to gain my attention for my lessons as a youth.”

“I can understand such a wish in the mind of a child, especially when the sun is shining. I am sure that the grounds of the Peverell estates must have been almost impossible to abjure in preference to the rigours of mathematics or other such lessons.”

“Quite, and even today I admit that I should perhaps be attending to my correspondence from my steward, but the opportunity to gain some air, and to exercise Hedwig was too much to resist. I am even more glad that I failed in that endeavour given the opportunity to meet you here, which I would otherwise have missed.” Hermione could not help but to blush at such a compliment, and was a little unsure as to how to reply, fearing that the conversation had wandered a little too close to matters that seemed yet too delicate for open discussion, or even to be thought of outside of the confines of her private rooms.

She was rescued from her quandary by the voice of the Vicomtesse, as the elder couple drew abreast of them on the path.

“Is that one of Mme Fanchon’s gowns you are wearing Miss Granger?” she queried. “I own I fear I could not carry such a delicate shade of primrose, nor such a simple cut.” Even as she spoke she somehow managed to manoeuvre the gentlemen to allow her to take Hermione by the arm, while they dropped back to walk together in pursuit of their ladies.

“It is, Madame la Vicomtesse” began Hermione, only to be interrupted.

“Please, do call me Narcissa while we are speaking together like this” interjected the Vicomtesse. “I find that I strive to forget that I am old enough to have a grown son, and such a weighty title does naught but remind me of that dreadful fact. I hope I can claim a similar familiarity and make free with your own given name?”

“In that case, I can but do as instructed, Narcissa, and please do call me Hermione if you should so wish” replied Hermione. “And I must thank you for your kind words on my gown also. I fear I can take little personal credit for its success though. Mme Fanchon was kind enough to give me her personal attention, and dictated that I should have only the simplest of silhouettes while she and Lady Ross chose my colours. My only request was that they should not be too bright, as I am not long out of mourning, otherwise I suspect I should be in jonquil rather than primrose.”

The conversation continued in discussion of the various shades available, with Narcissa gifting Hermione with the benefit of her superior knowledge of the contents of the Pantheon Bazaar. Meanwhile the gentlemen were also in conversation, although the subject of their discourse was before them where both could rest their eyes without too much trouble.

“Do I detect the likelihood of your soon becoming a tenant for life, Harry?” questioned the Viscount.

“Perhaps,” replied the Duke, knowing by the use of his given name that this was indeed a serious query and not mere teasing as was often his uncle’s wont. “Certainly I find myself picturing Miss Granger in my mother’s beloved gardens and the thought is not jarring in any way.” The Duke looked seriously at his uncle before continuing slowly “Severus, I do believe I may have found my Duchess, but I worry that she will not be accepted fully by the ton. Her father was after all but a country gentleman and, while that matters not to me for my own part, I cannot help but think that I am expected to find a daughter of the aristocracy to bring home to Peverell Manor.”

“Have you forgot that while I am titled your dear mother was not? After all she was but the daughter of a country gentleman, even if our mother was the daughter of an earl. You know that I had ever the greatest of respect for Mr Evans, for he stood in many ways as my own father through my childhood and was as good a steward of my estate as I could have hoped for until I reached my majority. Indeed, my understanding is that Miss Granger’s mother was herself a Dagworth before her marriage, so there is no loss of breeding to be feared in offering Miss Granger the name of Peverell.”

“Even so, Severus, would she accept? She tells me she has spent this past week in the library of Ross House, and you know that I was never a good student. I fear she is much more learned than I – even on our outing to the Marbles she seemed able to converse with you at a level I have never achieved.”

“Perhaps she is more educated than you, at least so far as book-learning is to be concerned. I find nothing to perturb you there though, as you are not lacking in intelligence. You merely have different preferences in application – I doubt Miss Granger could match you as a whipster for example! You would not wish for a milk-and-water miss for a Duchess in any case; whoever you choose must be able to command the household, and you know that you would wish for more than commonplaces as dinner conversation every evening. Now, we should regain our companions as we are about to reach the main pathway once more.” The Viscount fulfilled this instruction himself; securing once more the hand of the Vicomtesse and seeing his nephew gain that of Miss Granger without difficulty.

They were making their way across to the waiting carriage, when they were accosted by a party including the elder two Miss Browns and the two youngest Weasleys.

“Miss Granger” called out Miss Weasley. “What a pleasure to see you here!”

“It is indeed pleasant to be out of doors once more” agreed Hermione, not noticing the looks of approval on the faces of Viscount Fitzroy and the Vicomtesse de Malfoi at such an apparently artless put down.

“It seems that Miss Granger will be well able to deal with encroaching acquaintances should she indeed become the next Duchess of Peverell” murmured the Vicomtesse to her gallant escort.

“Quite, and should that state of affairs comes to pass, perhaps I shall find myself able to look to my own future” he replied, with a sideways look of his eyes to see if his meaning were taken by his fair companion. The faintest of blushes upon her cheeks suggested that such a thought was not in any way unwelcome, and he felt his own heart jump at the intimation that he may yet release his hold upon his status as a bachelor after many years of apparent hopelessness. The two returned their attention to the group of young people before them, not wishing to be caught failing in their duties as chaperones.

The conversation had apparently moved on from the poor weather of the previous days to looking forward to the assembly at Almack’s that coming Wednesday.

“Are you expecting to attend Miss Granger?” questioned Miss Brown. “I have been fortunate enough to receive vouchers, and Mama has said that we shall be there.”

“Oh I wish I were old enough that I may be fully out, and join you” added her younger sister. “It is really too bad that Mama has said that I must wait another year to be presented.” This aside was greeted by indulgent smiles, for all present remembered the frustration of seeing others do what they were forbidden due to their age, or rather lack of such.

“Your time will come I have no doubt Miss Rose” was the gallant reply from the Duke of Peverell. “If I may be so bold, I will entreat you to promise me that you will save me a space on your card for that auspicious occasion.” Miss Rose could only blush and give a small giggle at this sign of attention from so great a personage, and retired from the fray in confusion.

“On that note” interrupted the Honourable Ronald Weasley, “May I assume that you will stand up with me on Wednesday Miss Granger?” This lady was for a moment taken aback by such an abrupt and assuming way of asking her for a dance, and floundered while looking for a way of avoiding it only to realise that due to the public nature of the request she was obliged to accept if she wished to dance at all that evening.

“I shall be pleased to reserve for you a country dance, Mr Weasley, should we be present” she replied with more than a hint of reserve in her voice. “I cannot yet say which one for I do not know my guardian’s plans and so do not know when we shall arrive.”

“Perhaps I could rather look to a waltz?”

“As I have not yet received permission to perform the waltz, I do not feel it proper to accept any request to partake in such an endeavour beforehand,” was the response to this piece of forwardness. At this point the Viscount felt it incumbent upon him to redirect the conversation before Miss Granger were forced to provide a more severe set down to the Weasleys and thus add to the on dits that were no doubt already circulating about her visit to the park that afternoon.

“Miss Granger, may I be so bold as to request that you reserve for me the set immediately following the supper interval?” he asked, with a small bow in her direction. “I have already engaged myself for the supper dance itself you understand, or else I should have requested that set.” He gently pressed the hand of the Vicomtesse between his body and arm, hoping that she would accept the indirect invitation and forgive his presumption. A small tightening of her fingers indicated her acceptance, while Hermione gave voice to hers.

“If we are being so bold as to request dances for an assembly that is yet two days away, then may I take advantage of my uncle’s misfortune and request your company for the supper dance Miss Granger?” was the Duke’s hasty interjection, as he could see Weasley opening his mouth to make the same offer.

“I should be delighted to mark your name against that dance, Your Grace” was Hermione’s carefully worded response, along with a daring squeeze of his arm where her hand still lay.

“Miss Brown” continued the Duke, “I would be obliged if you were to reserve me the set following supper as Miss Granger is already spoken for at that time.” This too was met with a positive response, although the look of expectation upon Miss Weasley’s face quickly moved to one of discontent at her own lack of requests before she recalled herself and assumed a polite mask once more.

“I do believe that I must return you to your guardian, Miss Granger,” the Vicomtesse attempted to bring the gathering to an end before seeing the Duke, who she saw almost as a second son due to his long friendship with the Vicomte, constrained to engage himself for a dance with a girl who was obviously setting her cap at him in hope of sporting strawberry leaves in her future.

Miss Granger nodding her acceptance of this hint, the foursome moved back to the carriage, where they were quickly settled for the short journey back to Ross House.


	12. Chapter 12

The day of the assembly at Almack’s found Hermione once more nervously preparing in her room. An as yet unworn concoction of fine white silk, with delicate touches of the finest French lace trim lay in readiness upon the bed. It had been pressed carefully that afternoon by Sarah, who had impressed even the notoriously fastidious McDougal with her skill with the hot iron – to the extent that the formidable guardian of Lady Ross’ wardrobe had deigned to permit her junior to assist her in the preparation of the Dowager’s favourite silk ball gown.

Hermione sat before her mirror, fingers playing nervously with the pearls she had inherited from her mother, wondering how the evening would unfold. She knew that all eyes would be on her – she had heard enough comments in the parlours she had sat in over the last few days to know that many of her contemporaries were waiting to see if she would buckle under the scrutiny of the infamous Patronesses. She knew that some at least were hoping that she would do so, conscious as they were that such an occurrence would reduce their competition in the marriage mart. Still others were just waiting to see which of her apparent suitors, if any, would come up to the scratch, and if she would show any sign of favouring one over the other.

“There now, Miss,” said Sarah, as she placed one final pearl pin in the mass of Hermione’s hair. “That’s that finished and done with, and only your dress needed to complete your look, so if you’d stand I’ll get you into it.” This was no sooner said than done, with Sarah twitching the folds into place with a skill that would have been the envy even of Mme Fanchon herself had she been able to see it.

“Thank you Sarah,” replied Hermione, before allowing the maid to fasten her pearls about her neck and smooth her evening gloves up her arms. A light shawl was placed on her arms, and a fan of painted silk to match her dress in her hand, and Hermione made her way down to the carriage, meeting Lady Ross on her way. The footman handed both ladies into the carriage, then raised the step, and signalled to John Coachman to set off.

“Remember that you may not waltz until one of the Patronesses has given you permission, Hermione.” Lady Ross broke the silence that had begun to feel, to Hermione at least, full of tension.

“I won’t, Lady Ross,” she replied “but I wonder how to deal with Mr Weasley. I had no choice but to agree to a dance, but have no wish to spend any more time with him than I can help. He has no conversation, unless I wish to speak of horses, and seems unable to remember that I am neither his brother nor one of his bits of muslin!” Hermione blushed to use such a phrase, but hoped that Lady Ross would forgive her such a use of language which would not normally pass her lips.

“I quite agree with your assessment. Unfortunately Mr Weasley is the sixth son, and although Lord Weasley is titled, it is but a baronetcy, and I fear the whole family is cucumberish. The eldest Mr Weasley seems a sensible gentleman, but he has recently married, and is not up to town this year. Mr Percy Weasley remains on the family’s estate, in the role of steward alongside his father, and then there are three brothers in the Guards, which cannot have been inexpensive to arrange! I’m afraid both Mr Ronald Weasley and Miss Weasley must be looking to marry money, and soon, as I doubt they have the blunt to cover another Season for Miss Weasley if she does not make a match in this.” Lady Ross left no suggestion that Mr Weasley would be welcome as a suitor for Hermione in her expression, which was rather that of one who had been presented with a mouse by the kitchen cat.

“So far as tonight is concerned, I would suggest that you attempt to ensure that your card is full before he can approach you. You may assume that you will be given permission to waltz, and so engage yourself for those dances later in the evening with partners you would like to spend time with, and know that they would be expecting only to promenade the room with you should permission not have been given. The dance you have already promised should be discharged as soon as possible. “

“Thank you for the advice, Lady Ross” replied Hermione to this homily. “I will endeavour to follow your instructions to the letter. I believe that I can count on a number of gentlemen to be in attendance this evening upon whom I can rely for assistance in following such a plan.” Content that all was as settled as could be, the ladies relaxed for the remainder of their journey to King Street.

Entering the room Hermione was unsurprised to see that the rooms were almost bare, with none of the decoration she had been used to seeing in the ballrooms of the ton, as she had been forewarned by her guardian as to the dullness of the night’s entertainment. Looking around she saw the Earl of Longbottom coming towards them from a corner where his grandmother was seated upon a chaise.

“Good evening Lady Ross, Miss Granger” he greeted them. “May I escort you to my grandmother? I believe she would welcome your company Lady Ross, and perhaps Miss Granger would favour me with the next quadrille?” This being agreeable to his companions they moved to greet the Dowager Countess, while they waited for the country dance in progress to be completed.

The quadrille passed smoothly, and at its end the Earl released her to her next partner, none other than Mr Brown, who Hermione always enjoyed spending time with as he had a tendency to treat her as if she were one of his own daughters, allowing her to enjoy the dance without having to worry about any possibility of his taking a smile as unintended encouragement. He took her with him to join his wife and daughter as the next set was a waltz, and she passed some minutes in quietly exchanging confidences with Miss Brown, who was arrayed in pale blue, accented with a delicate aquamarine necklace. The two were dismayed to see the Weasley family arrive, and proceed to walk directly towards them.

“Miss Granger,” began Mr Weasley, dressed in the de rigueur knee breeches, but looking more as if he were a young boy playing dress up than a nattily arrayed gentleman of the ton thanks to the preponderance of puce lace trimming his coat. “I trust you are ready for our dance, as the next set is just forming?” Unable to demur, Hermione gave him her hand and allowed him to lead her onto the floor. To her pleasure they were joined by the Earl of Longbottom and the Vicomte de Malfoi, the latter escorting Miss Brown, and so she was not without friends in the set.

She found that Mr Weasley showed none of the finesse of her previous partners, being more enthusiastic than elegant, and he had a tendency to grasp rather too strongly to her hand when given to him in the figures of the dance. The dance seemed to last twice that of previous sets, though Hermione knew this could not be the case as all timings were carefully overseen by the Patronesses. Finally she sank into the final curtsey, and rose to look for Lady Ross in the hope of avoiding further conversation with Mr Weasley. It appeared that she was being assisted in this as somehow in the milling of people he was blocked from approaching her, and she turned to find the Vicomte de Malfoi bowing to her and offering an arm to escort her off the floor as Miss Brown had already been claimed by her partner for the next set.

“May I procure you a glass of lemonade?” he queried on their way. A nod from Hermione and he settled her on the chaise beside the two dowagers before leaving in search of refreshments. Returning after a few minutes, he had a manservant following him bearing a tray with glasses of lemonade upon it for all the ladies, who were thankful to partake of even such a paltry drink as this.

“I hope that I may have the pleasure of a dance later this evening” requested the Vicomte, before scrawling his name against one of the later country dances on Hermione agreeing. Lady Longbottom having enquired after the health of the Vicomtesse, he replied “My mother is present this evening, but I believe she is currently in the refreshment room in search of sustenance with my godfather. He arrived a few minutes ago with his nephew.”

At this point the group was approached by Lady Castlereagh, and all rose to greet the Patroness appropriately before waiting to see what had brought such an august personage to their quiet corner.

“Tell me Miss Granger, do you not waltz?” was the opening question from Lady Castlereagh

“I have not yet been given permission to perform the dance, my lady” replied Hermione, with a quick glance towards the Vicomte, who appeared to straighten at such a direct question being posed.

“In that case, may I present the Vicomte de Malfoi to you as a suitable partner?” said Lady Castlereagh with an amused glance at the consternation on that gentleman’s face. “I believe the next set is a waltz so you have not long to wait!” With this, the Patroness nodded to the two dowagers, before proceeding on her way. The Vicomte turned to Hermione, and with a rueful look upon his face offered her his arm.

“I appear to have been commanded, though I admit the order is not a burdensome one,” he murmured to Hermione’s answering grin of amusement. Reaching the floor, he took her in his arms, and they began to dance. Suddenly Hermione realised just why this dance was such a daring thing to attempt. Her hours of practise with her father had not prepared her for the feeling of being so close to a gentleman not related to her. She was aware of his every movement, and though she was able to follow the steps without too much difficulty, she felt unable to even attempt conversation. She found it impossible to pick out details of the faces passing by her eyes as she whirled, and was only aware of flashes of colour.

“I dare not think it my company alone that has brought you to speechlessness Miss Granger,” said the Vicomte finally, expertly avoiding a collision with another couple as they turned the corner of the room. “I should be disappointed if you were to prove unequal to the challenge of at least exchanging comments upon the music” he continued.

“I apologise for my distraction” replied Hermione. “I hope you will forgive my being momentarily overwhelmed.” The dance then finished, and the Vicomte held Hermione close for a moment longer before releasing her to exchange his bow for her curtsey. He then escorted her to the edge of the floor, where they soon met with the Duke of Peverell, who had come searching for his supper partner in readiness for the next set which was about to start. “Thank you for a most pleasant waltz” she said as she moved to take the Duke’s arm.

Later she was unable to remember much of the rest of the evening; her dance with the Duke went smoothly and the following supper interval was enlivened by their joining Viscount Fitzroy and the Vicomtesse de Malfoi, meaning that she was escorted back to the floor by the Viscount for his promised country dance without Mr Weasley having the slightest opportunity to approach her. The Duke having attained her promise to dance the last waltz with him, she found that her dance card was soon filled with the names of those gentlemen she had been long used to meeting as partners in the ballrooms of the ton the whole season. When Mr Weasley finally managed to find her seated at the side, sipping at a glass of lemonade, she was able to truthfully tell him that her card was full for the remainder of the evening.

Having passed from partner to partner, with barely a pause, she completed the final country dance with Viscount Fitzroy, before that gentleman passed her into the Duke’s arms for the final waltz. Having already danced a waltz with both the Vicomte and the Earl of Longbottom, she had hoped that she would now be able to acquit herself without trouble, but found that as with her first waltz, nothing prior had prepared her for the sensations she now felt as she moved round the room. To her surprise, the Duke also seemed under a spell as he made no attempt to initiate conversation as had the Vicomte, until the final chords rang through the room, and he was forced to release her to a more discreet distance.

Heads nodded at one another in recognition that here perhaps they had finally seen the beginnings of signs that Hermione could well be the next Duchess of Peverell, as few were slow to note the reluctance with which the Duke returned her to her guardian’s care. Thankfully for Hermione’s composure, she was unaware of being the cynosure of so many eyes, and was able to direct her entire concentration to gathering her shawl and walking to the carriage to make her way home, there to dream the night through of those minutes held in the arms of the Duke.


	13. Chapter 13

The next afternoon saw Lady Longbottom dismiss the maid who had brought the tea tray, before turning to Lady Ross in expectation.

“Well, Minerva?” she began. “Now that we are finally without listeners you can be frank. Do you expect to see that girl of yours take her place as Duchess of Peverell? Or is it a more exotic title you see in her future? I know she’s not for my Neville; even if she were to be interested he certainly isn’t. The silly boy thinks I don’t know he’s just counting the years until he can make an offer to his childhood friend.”

“I’m sure I don’t know what you mean, Augusta”

“Of course you don’t! Just as you didn’t know what I meant when I asked you about the last Duke of Peverell and Miss Lily Evans?” Lady Ross just raised her eyebrow at her friends comment. “Or even when we were both young girls ourselves and taking our pick of the beaus before us?”

“I must admit that I have hopes that she will make a match with one of them, but I am not sure which gentleman holds more favour with her, nor even if either is like to be brought up to the mark at any time soon.” Lady Ross finally relaxed enough to begin to confide in her dearest friend.

“I would have thought that young Peverell would seem to be the favoured one – he did take the supper dance after all, as well as that last waltz. I’ve not seen a girl look so in alt after a dance in many a year” Lady Longbottom seemed determined to identify in which direction to look for the next brilliant match. “Of course by that reckoning we could include Viscount Fitzroy in our considerations, but I suppose him to be a little past the point of nursery-thinking. He’s not shown any signs before this Season at any rate.”

“I believe that to be due to having his choice taken from him at an early point in life” replied Lady Ross, much to the surprise of her companion. “Plus of course once he became responsible for Peverell he knew he had to be ever more careful in his choice of bride should he wish to become leg-shackled. I don’t believe he ever came so close as to even offer carte-blanche, and we both know there have been many widows who would have welcomed such an offer as that from that quarter.”

“I see your point, Minerva, but what do you mean by his choice having been taken from him? I don’t remember his ever having shown a particular partiality?”

“I doubt you would have done so” responded Lady Ross, “for I doubt he would have betrayed it by even a glance in public, but you forget that I was often in company with his mother before she passed, God rest her soul.”

“Poor Eileen Evans? I had not realised that you were so intimate with her?”

“”The Fitzroy holdings run up against a minor estate in the Ross family, and Ross and I would often winter there rather than risk the journey up to Scotland. As Mr Evans would also take his family to spend their winters there as he looked over the estate we were used to spend time in each other’s company. Even when apart we continued a correspondence until her demise.”

“And it was she who informed you of the Viscount’s preference?”

“Yes, but not until it was already hopeless. I had made an enquiry as to the likelihood of his following his sister into matrimony, and was told that he had indicated quite forcefully that he saw none to interest him since his first choice was gone beyond his reach.”

”But this is most intriguing, Minerva.” Lady Longbottom took the time to freshen their cups before continuing her inquiry into this new insight into the taciturn Viscount Fitzroy. “So who was the favoured lady, and what terrible fate could have befallen her that he was robbed of happiness?”

“You have not guessed? Why ‘twas none other than the Vicomtesse de Malfoi. No terrible fate, just a betrothal arranged by her father before she even was out in Society.”

“So why did he not propose once she was widowed? It must be twenty years or more since she was free?”

“I do believe that by that time he had convinced himself that she truly loved her husband, and would not look at another. To be fair to Fitzroy, she has shown no sign of wishing to search again for connubial bliss, though I believe that is rather from fear of losing her autonomy rather than a wish to honour her husband’s memory. I do believe that she holds an affection for Fitzroy, but whether it be enough to tempt her to exchange one title for another I do not know.”

“So perhaps we need to make a push so that we may anticipate a double set of nuptials?” Those who were used to seeing Lady Longbottom in her public manner would have been astonished to discern the twinkle in her eye at the thought of such machinations.

“Perhaps we ought” replied her friend. “Mayhap we should endeavour a picnic, and offer all those we have discussed the opportunity of a more relaxed environment than a ballroom or parlour?” At a nod from Lady Longbottom, plans were begun in earnest.

Meanwhile, Hermione had been engaged in making morning visits in company with Mrs and Miss Brown, after which they had returned to the Browns’ townhouse for a welcome respite from company manners. Mrs Brown having retired to her rooms to rest before the dinner hour, and the younger Miss Browns being out on a walk in the park in the company of their governess, the two young ladies found themselves in the possession of the parlour without additional company. They requested the butler to deny them to any callers, and settled in to exchange their reflections on the previous evening’s entertainments.

“What do you think of Almack’s then Hermione?” began Miss Brown. “For myself, it was every bit as insipid as Mama had warned me.”

“It was certainly not so decorative as might have been expected,” replied Hermione. “But I feel that what it may have lacked in decoration it certainly supplied in company.”

“Yes,” responded Miss Brown, “I can see that even the dullest of rooms can be most enervating if one’s companions are congenial. Did you find it so pleasant then to dance with Mr Weasley?” There was a decided look of mischief about Miss Brown at this utterance.

“You know perfectly well I was not speaking of that gentleman” retorted Hermione. “I wish I knew of a way to make myself less desirable in his eyes, for he makes me most uncomfortable.”

“I am afraid the only way you could do that would be to swear yourself to a nunnery,” laughed Miss Brown. “That or forswear your inheritance. I doubt he would look twice at you had you not a sixpence. “

“I fear you are correct with your supposition. I don’t think anyone can be in any doubt that he and his sister are looking to make good matches, so I am thankful that I was not obliged to stand up with him more than once, and as you know I would as lief not have done that much!”

“You were lucky to be so popular with the other attendees then, that they kept you occupied so that he was unable to engage you further”

“I believe I may have Lord Longbottom to thank for that; I am sure I saw him speaking to one or two of my escorts who would not normally have stood up at Almack’s. But I hope you were also fortunate enough to avoid the discomfort of having to oblige Mr Weasley?”

“Oh, I am quite beneath his notice. You know that I have but a modest sum to bring with me into marriage, and must instead look to my future husband to be able to support us both as I can expect only pin-money from my portion.”

“And have you yet set your sights upon such a husband, Lavender?” Hermione tried to turn the subject of the conversation to her friend’s prospects rather than her own.

“I have not” was the rapid response. “Though I admit I might have developed a tendre for the Earl of Longbottom had I not known so early in our acquaintance that his affections were engaged elsewhere. As it is he has been a most affable escort on many occasions, and I cannot but envy Miss Lovegood. I can scarcely dare hope to find a gentleman who will hold me in such steadfast and loyal esteem.”

“She is indeed to be envied. I think the only gentleman who has shown such devotion is Viscount Fitzroy, though I do not know if the object of his allegiance is aware of it.”

“Whatever do you mean Hermione? I had thought the Viscount to be counted amongst your own conquests?”

“No indeed. I own he has been most kind to me, but I am far too young for him. He needs I think someone who can remind him of his own younger years, rather than emphasise the distance that grows between then and now as one such as I would.”

“I see what you mean,” Lavender responded slowly. “Yet who can you mean to be his Psyche?” She sipped at her glass, deep in thought. “But of course, the Vicomtesse de Malfoi!”

“Exactly Lavender. He has certainly been her devoted attendant these many years, even if in the guise of godfather to her son.”

“So if Viscount Fitzroy is not for you I suppose we should look to his godson? Or perhaps his nephew is more to your taste?” Hermione could not prevent her cheeks from colouring furiously at this, and it took her a moment or two to collect her thoughts sufficiently to reply.

“They are both amiable gentlemen,” she began.

“And both as handsome as you are like to find anywhere!” interrupted Miss Brown with a broad grin.

“Well, I can hardly deny that” continued Hermione, still blushing safe to outshine the bowl of roses on a nearby table. “But I think we both can admit that looks alone should not be the basis for the decision of where to place one's future happiness.” Miss Brown could not but agree that this was a wise constraint, although her sighs did suggest that she would be happy for it to form a large part of her decision.

“Well, having danced twice with both of them, and a waltz with each at that, surely you have some preference to display to one or the other? Should I be looking to see you with dark or light haired babes in the future?” But Miss Brown was to be disappointed in her wish to know the direction of her friend’s affections, for before Hermione could even begin to find a way to answer this forward piece of questioning, the parlour door opened to admit the younger Miss Browns, returned from their walk and ready to make much of finding their sister’s friend there to whom they could relay all manner of tales of their outing.


	14. Chapter 14

The Ladies Longbottom and Ross were true to their words, and a picnic was arranged for a few days later. They had planned together an excursion to Hampstead Heath, in search of a change of vista from that found in the more fashionable Hyde Park, but still not requiring a long journey for the members of their party. Accordingly on the appointed afternoon a procession of coaches made their way north through the streets of London to reach the Heath, where the ladies and gentlemen were pleased to find waiting for them a prettily arrayed picnic. The tables were set by a small copse of trees which provided shade for the ladies, while allowing all to enjoy the sweeping rise of the Heath.

There were also servants waiting to serve both food and chilled wine or lemonade as appropriate to the age of the attendee. The latter was especially required as in the interests of attempting to foster a relaxed atmosphere it was decided to include in the party some younger members of various families. This meant that the outing was open to those who were not yet out, and thus the Brown family included in their number for this auspicious occasion Miss Rose, much to her delight.

“It is most kind of you to include me Lady Ross”, she remarked to her hostess upon the arrival of the Browns at the agreed meeting spot. “It is hard to see Lavender going out so much and to be still relegated to the schoolroom with my younger sisters.”

“So I understand,” was the sympathetic reply to this effusion. “I hope you will find this afternoon educational as well as enjoyable.”

“Thank you for your hospitality Lady Ross”, replied Mrs Brown before ushering her daughters away to find a seat. Seeing Hermione already seated to one side, she moved in that direction, knowing her eldest daughter would welcome the opportunity to speak to her friend, and hoping that her younger charge would benefit from being in Miss Granger’s vicinity. Mrs Brown was well aware that she had two more daughters to settle after the two that were with her that day, and one never knew when a fortunate introduction would be made.

Hermione greeted her friend and her family with pleasure, thankful at the thought of sensible conversation while they consumed the various pies, pastries and other delicacies produced by the Ross cook for the occasion. Her pleasure was increased by the fact that she was thus protected from the possibility of having to break bread in direct company with either of the Weasleys, who had also been invited as part of the larger party. Their mother had been forced to decline the invitation as she was promised elsewhere, but there had been no way of avoiding proffering it in the first place without causing tongues to wag across the ton and so her children had accepted with alacrity.

With everyone arrived, and seated in small groups around the table area, the footmen began serving. Conversation was muted as it was perforce confined to those people in each group’s immediate vicinity, although it was clear that some groups had more to discuss than others. That presided over by the two hostesses seemed especially energetic as the various matrons compared knowledge of the latest crim cons as well as attempting to determine who next would be sending a notice to the Times of a betrothal. Meanwhile a number of the young men had congregated together and taken the opportunity of exchanging views on the latest sporting news.

This left groups of both debutantes and younger girls and boys, in company with doting parents, to make shift as best they could between them for entertainment, until eventually the children were released to enjoy the freedom afforded them by the large parkland. Governesses and tutors were soon left behind while hoops, tops and other equipment was unearthed from family carriages with shouts of joy. The older guests also took the opportunity to stroll across the heathland, though keeping their exclamations somewhat controlled and their perambulations certainly more contained.

Miss Brown and Hermione were two who felt the need for movement after their repast, and wandered slowly away from the larger group, with Miss Rose who felt quite grown up at being allowed to accompany them. They had not moved far before being joined by a number of gentlemen, among them the Earl of Longbottom and his brothers in all but name the Duke of Peverell and the Vicomte de Malfoi.

“I am delighted to see you so soon Miss Rose” the Duke said gallantly. “I had not expected to have the pleasure of your company again this Season.” That young lady was able only to blush at recognition from such an exalted personage, but was rescued by the intervention of the Vicomte who proffered his arm to her elder sister. The Earl soon followed his example, and gently invited Miss Rose to join him as they walked, leaving Hermione to follow them with the Duke as her escort.

“Is your mother in attendance my lord?” queried Miss Brown, having not yet seen the Vicomtesse but knowing that rare was the occasion where one would appear without the other.

“Indeed yes” replied the Vicomte, “but she has no taste for wilderness and remains to converse with her contemporaries. I suspect that she may yet be discussing our conversation with your mother!”

“Perhaps so my lord” replied Miss Brown, “although I suspect that she may well feel you have been looking in quite another direction than mine.” To this she received no direct reply other than a sideways glance, but as this was followed soon after by his looking towards where they could see the Duke and his companion she felt she had received her answer. A quick check reassured her that her sister was now conversing quite animatedly with the Earl, and seemed to have forgotten she was in the presence of nobility. Miss Brown would have been further reassured had she been able to hear the topic of conversation, which was concerned with the species of trees and bushes surrounding them. The Earl had also relaxed to be able to talk of such an innocuous subject, and with a partner who had no thought of entrapping him into any untoward utterances.

Hermione and the Duke meanwhile had walked in silence for some time, both attempting to think of a way to begin a conversation, but unable to speak for remembering their waltz. Eventually Hermione managed to stammer out an enquiry as to the health of Viscount Fitzroy, who had not then arrived despite having been expected.

“I fear he was detained by news from his steward” responded the Duke, thankful for the breaking of what had become an unnatural quiet. “I know he hoped to join us here before too long, and can only assume that he must have needed to spend longer over his initial reply than he first thought was necessary.”

“I trust it is not bad news that detains him so?”

“Naught to cause fear, but I know it required his immediate attention and could not wait longer than was needed to pen the reply. It may be that he will need to leave town for a small while to attend to the matter personally.”

“I shall hope for your sake that it does not come to that, for I have observed that you hold your uncle in great esteem,” ventured Hermione.

“I also” replied the Duke, “for I agree that I would be lonesome should he be forced to quit Peverell House for any length of time. I have been pleased that he has chosen to lodge with me rather than opening his own establishment as he would be within his rights to do, especially now that I can be regarded as well launched in society.”

“Do you feel such a change is likely then Your Grace?”

“I believe it to be more than possible that this shall be the last Season that my uncle spends in a bachelor household, although I suppose it is possible that I shall merely exchange his company for that of Malfoi next year.” That gentleman, on hearing his name spoken turned and joined the conversation.

“It may come to that yet, Peverell” he laughed “though I fear that it may require an outside force to apply pressure or we may yet be awaiting such an announcement when we are become the elders who sit and watch the youngsters stroll about!”

“If I take your meaning correctly, I doubt that you shall have to wait quite so long.” Hermione hoped that her words would not be taken amiss. “Do I understand that you both would welcome such an announcement if it were to be made?”

“I think we both would have welcomed it even had it been made a decade or more ago” was the reply from the Duke, after a look towards his fair-haired comrade.

“It might have proved more difficult at that time, for you were then both in much need of your guardians’ time and attention” suggested Hermione.

“Perhaps so” responded the Vicomte. “And now, perhaps you would agree to an exchange of escorts, for I fear I have sadly bored Miss Brown with my lack of knowledge of anything beyond the cut of my coat!”

“Indeed not sir” at once replied Miss Brown, “though I would think that my sister might be pleased to be escorted by another fine gentleman while she is allowed to be amongst us.” The Duke at once called to the Earl to be allowed to annex his young companion, and with the Earl taking the opportunity to substitute one sister for the other the Vicomte was left to enjoy Hermione’s company.

They passed a most pleasant few minutes in exchanging their thoughts on the possibility that he might soon be in a position to be wishing his mother farewell. The Vicomte was initially somewhat surprised that Hermione had so soon noticed the connection between Viscount Fitzroy and the Vicomtesse as it seemed to have gone unseen by society at large, though he was unaware of the speculation that was building that year. Lady Ross was not the only one to remember the circumstances of his parents’ marriage, or to see the growing understanding between his mother and godfather. Hermione for her part was happy to find that she was able to converse quite unaffectedly with the Vicomte, and no such tongue-tied silence as had befallen her with the Duke occurred to put her out of countenance.

“Good afternoon Miss Granger” came then the unwelcome voice of Miss Weasley. She had walked over with her brother, and in the process of exchanging greetings with the others managed to move so that she was standing expectantly beside the Duke when they had finished. He perforce offered her his arm to escort her back towards the picnic tables. As planned between them, her brother meanwhile took advantage of the small confusion this caused to secure the hand of Miss Granger, leaving the two Misses Brown to the care of the Vicomte and the Earl as the party began to make their way back.


	15. Chapter 15

Hermione began by asking after his mother, hoping to keep their dialogue to commonplaces until they had returned to the tables and she could cease their interaction without fear of censure from society at large. To her relief he seemed happy to follow her conversational lead, and spent some minutes explaining his mother’s absence, and talking over the latest news from Sir Arthur and the family estate.

She had quickly detached her hand from the arm of Mr Weasley, though she was constrained by good manners not to simply walk away from him, using the excuse that she needed to hold her dress carefully as they moved over the uneven ground. Instead she followed his pace as she walked alongside him, without realising that they were falling to the back of the group that was headed by the Duke and Miss Weasley. That gentleman had increased his pace above the slow stroll that had previously been employed in the hope of keeping to a minimum the time he was required to pay attention to his unwelcome companion. As the Vicomte and Earl thought nothing of matching their comrade’s strides it was not long before a gap had widened between the main group and the last pairing.

To her consternation, while speaking to her of the latest letter the family in London had received from his brother Percy, Mr Weasley had somehow altered their trajectory, and Hermione suddenly became aware that she could no longer see either her former escorts or the tables where her guardian and the other matrons sat enjoying their exchanges of gossip or, in the case of one or two, dozing gently in the afternoon sunshine. She immediately attempted to revert to a course designed to return her to the safety of company, which she could hear was but yards away behind a large shrubbery, only to find her arm, and then hand caught by Mr Weasley.

“Miss Granger” he began, gripping her hand so tightly that she felt as though she were like to develop a bruise upon it. “I beg you will forgive my choosing such a public venue for this discussion, but I feel unable to await a more congenial moment.”

“Sir, please release my hand!” remonstrated Hermione, trying to extricate her hand. “Please, I beg of you to allow me to return to my guardian.”

“Nay, for I must speak” came the reply. “You must have remarked my having sought your company above all others these past weeks, and I believe it has not been unwelcome…”

“Sir, I have not thought of any such thing!” Hermione continued to try to remove her hand, but was ever aware that she could not raise her voice greatly without causing a great scandal.

“Then please allow me to make it known to you now how very much I admire you,” continued Mr Weasley, while he moved to take hold of her other hand so that she was perforce constrained to face him as they stood there. “I know that it has not been long since we were first introduced, but my admiration has grown immensely with each meeting since that first happy occasion and I cannot, no will not be silenced upon the matter.”

At this, Hermione realised that she could not avoid the interview he seemed determined to force upon her without making herself the subject of ridicule across the town, and resigned herself to hearing him out. She stopped struggling and simply waited for the opportunity to leave, though keeping her arms somewhat rigid to prevent his crowding her.

“My dear Miss Granger or may I be so bold as to call you Hermione?” At this the lady so addressed shook her head and tried to utter a negative, but found herself spoken over as if she had not even drawn breath. “I beg of you to see how much I have grown to appreciate your composure in public, and your kindness to those senior gentlemen who wish still to dance with young girls no matter how dark of countenance they be.” Hermione realised here that somehow Mr Weasley counted even Viscount Fitzroy as a ‘senior gentleman’ rather than a gentleman in the prime of life and had to bite her lip to prevent herself interrupting and so prolonging the situation.

“I cannot wait to announce to the world at large that you have agreed to make me the happiest of men, and will shortly become the second Mrs Weasley of my generation after my eldest brother’s wife. She need not bother you though for she is of French origin, and so you will no doubt outrank her here in Society even when they do appear. So you see you will not lose anything merely because you will not hold a title, and you know that you could not look so high in any case given your background.”

Hermione could not believe the delusions being shown by Mr Weasley in this speech, and began once more to attempt to free herself, only to find that he took the opportunity to bring her closer, and even made to put an arm around her as if she were no more than a bit of muslin!

“Sir!” she exclaimed once more, hoping to prevent his continuing. “Please, I beg of you to cease your speech...”

“Ah, you prefer action to words?” he replied to this, pulling her closer still as she continued to struggle. “I had not thought it with what I had heard of your love of books, but I can show you that acting a romance can be much more satisfying than merely reading of one!”

At this Hermione became truly frightened, and finally resorted to stamping on Mr Weasley’s foot, thankful that due to the expected lack of footpaths she had worn sturdy half boots rather than thin slippers such as she might have donned for an afternoon of making calls or an evening’s dancing. This finally shocked him such that he ceased speaking, and released her, at which she immediately moved out of his reach.

“Mr Weasley, please let me make this very clear to you,” she spoke slowly, hoping that he was attending her words closely. “I know not of any particular affection you may hold for me, and certainly hold no such affection for you. Indeed I am surprised that you thought such an approach would be welcome to me for I feel sure that I have shown you no unusual favour above any other gentleman.”

“Miss Granger, forgive me if have been carried away in the fervour of my advances, but please do not naysay the truth of my regard for you.”

“I would rather believe in the truth of your regard for my dowry, for I cannot believe that you would otherwise wish to take me to wife. I know of nothing we have in common save our mutual acquaintances amongst the ton and can only think that you have been so blinded by the thought of gold that you have no thought of the realities of matrimonial life.” This was plain speaking indeed, but Hermione had reached a point where she was unable to couch her refusal in anything more approaching polite conversation.

“Nothing could be further from the truth” postulated Mr Weasley, though the flush covering his face at this response suggested that Hermione had scored a direct hit with her supposition.

“Nevertheless, I am resolute in my belief that we should not suit” continued Hermione, wishing to be as clear as possible that there was no hope to be fund for Mr Weasley’s continued pursuit. “Indeed I should go so far as to say that I would prefer to remain unmarried than to ever call myself Mrs Weasley!”

To her profound relief at this point she realised that she could hear the voices of the Misses Brown as they approached, and so her ordeal would soon be over.

“There you are, Miss Granger” called Miss Rose as they rounded the corner. “We worried that you had become lost in this mass of foliage!”

“No, indeed, Miss Rose” replied Hermione, with a grateful smile towards her friends. “Mr Weasley was merely asking my advice on the likelihood of Mrs Wollstonecraft’s treatise becoming accepted by the wider populace, and I am afraid we became forgetful of our surroundings.” She had moved to take Miss Brown’s arm, and that lady was quickly aware that her friend was not so composed as she had initially appeared.

“Well, that is much too heavy a subject for discussion on such a lovely day as this, Miss Granger” she replied, turning back towards the picnic tables. “Let me beseech you instead to tell me where you obtained the ribbons upon your bonnet, for I swear they are new.”

“I admit that they are, for Lady Ross and I felt that a darker shade of primrose would befit the shade of my boots more than that I had been wearing. We visited the Pantheon Bazaar yesterday for the express purpose of discovering the correct shade, and I flatter myself that we were most successful.” With this, the two ladies continued their discussion as they walked, with interjections from Miss Rose, until they reached the tables, and Hermione sank thankfully on a chair near those occupied by Lady Ross and Lady Longbottom.

These two ladies were quick to see that something had happened to disturb Hermione and ruffle her usually flawless demeanour, and that it had clearly not been so pleasant as they might have hoped suggested to them that it had not involved either the Duke or the Vicomte. However an exchange of glances was sufficient for them to agree that this was neither the time nor the place for quizzing the girl, and the matter was allowed to rest for a more appropriate setting. The picnic now drawing to a close, the guests made their farewells in turn to the two hostesses, before returning to their various carriages to make the journey back to town.

Miss Brown managed to exchange a quick word with Hermione, and promised to find a way to have a private discussion the next day, before joining her family to enjoy the exultations of Miss Rose at having spent the afternoon in such elevated company as they drove back.

Mr Weasley meanwhile, had slunk back to the group, and waited sullenly until his sister could be extracted and returned to the phaeton in which they had arrived. She took one look at his face and immediately began to upbraid him for failing in his addresses to Miss Granger to which he wished her to Jericho and commanded her to cease prattling at him. This caused such ill-feeling between the two that it was well that they had not far to go before they could quit each other’s company, thought they were by far not the only people to feel that the day had not turned out so well as had been hoped.


	16. Chapter 16

The next morning, Hermione had barely finished arranging her hair with the able assistance of her maid Sarah, when to her surprise there was a knock on the door before Lady Ross came in. She smiled gently at Hermione before moving to the chaise in the corner of the room, where Hermione was used to while away free hours with a novel or two, and seating herself.

“I hope you will forgive my intrusion into your private room my dear” she said, “but I think we need to speak without fear of interruption by visitors, and that is much more easily arranged if the butler knows we have not yet come downstairs. You needn’t worry about breakfast - I had Morag inform the cook that we would be delayed this morning.” Hermione could but nod in agreement to this sage discourse. “If you can complete your toilette without Sarah’s attendance, perhaps she can lend a hand to Morag in her duties?” continued the dowager with a steely look at the young maid.

“I believe I can manage without Sarah for one morning Lady Ross” replied Hermione, nodding to Sarah as she did to go and seek out the redoubtable Miss McDougal who would certainly be awaiting her assistance if Lady Ross was making such a suggestion.

The maid having left the room, dropping a quick curtsey at the door before closing it, Lady Ross gestured to Hermione to join her on the chaise.

“My dear Hermione” she began in a low tone, “I have to state that I could not help but notice that you returned from your walk at yesterday’s picnic looking rather as if something had occurred to disturb your composure.”

“Forgive me Lady Ross, but I fear I would prefer not to speak of yesterday” replied Hermione, blushing furiously before paling so much that Lady Ross was fearful that she might faint. Catching up one of her hands, Lady Ross patted it gently between her own while she waited for Hermione to recover herself a little.

“I think for this conversation you should address me as Minerva” invited Lady Ross “for I suspect that we shall have to be as frank as if you were in truth my daughter or granddaughter.”

Hermione seemed lost as to how to respond to this overture, and simply sat, waiting to see what next would befall her.

“If I am not much mistaken” continued Lady Ross, “something occurred that was not entirely welcome?”

“Oh, M-m-minerva” stammered Hermione before dissolving into tears. It was some time before she regained awareness of her surroundings, to find herself being held closely by Lady Ross, in a manner she had not experienced since before her mother’s fatal illness. For some minutes she lay against the matron, savouring the sense of safety that thus surrounded her, before finally she straightened herself, and moved to bathe her face, thankful that Sarah had not removed the morning’s washing water when she had quit the room earlier.

“Now my dear, I’m sure you feel a little better for having let that out?” queried Lady Ross, to a thankful, if still slightly watery nod from Hermione. At this she patted the seat of the chaise beside her, inviting Hermione to be seated once more. “Let us try again shall we?”

“Y-yes, Minerva” came the low reply.

“Shall I say what I think happened, and then you can correct me and fill in any details you think I need?” suggested Lady Ross, hoping to allow Hermione to find a way of confiding in her. Another small nod from Hermione was sufficient to start her talking again. “You were happy enough as you began your perambulations, and I have no reason to believe that any of the three gentlemen who made up your initial group would importune you in any way that was unwelcome?” She glanced at Hermione to check for any sign of disagreement, but finding none continued. “However by the time they returned to the tables, they had exchanged your company for that of Miss Weasley, as well as having exchanged companions between themselves. His Grace did not seem best pleased to have ‘won’ Miss Weasley’s company, whereas his comrades both seemed content enough with their partners. This suggests to me that perhaps both the young Weasleys had caught up to your group, and somehow inveigled their way into your party, with the result being that you were obliged to accept Mr Weasley’s escort.”

“You are perfectly correct so f-far” confirmed Hermione, wringing her hands in her lap before they were again patted gently by Lady Ross.

“As Mr Weasley did not in fact escort you back, but you were instead accompanied by Miss Brown and Miss Rose, I suspect that those two ladies effected somewhat of a rescue by returning together to find you. As you were disturbed in mind, but appeared to have taken no physical ill, I can only assume that either your suffering was purely verbal, or they were in time to prevent anything distasteful?”

“I...mostly…” faltered Hermione, only to find that Lady Ross once again embraced her closely.

“You can tell me anything my child” she murmured. “I know you will not have been at fault, no matter what you may believe, or indeed that society at large may say.”

“You have the bare bones of the story correct.” whispered Hermione, “but I think I must tell you the detail of my interview with Mr Weasley.” She turned her head so that she was looking at a picture of wildflowers on the wall, rather than at her confidante, feeling unable to view the expression upon that lady’s face as she continued. “He manoeuvred me so that we were separated from the others, and hidden from sight by the shrubs. He then proceeded to make me an offer of marriage; I think he meant to flatter me into acceptance, but his words were most offensive, to his sister-in-marriage as well as to me, and he took hold of my arm and hands so that I could not escape and continued even when I begged him to cease.”

“Oh my dear child, I feared it was something like this.” Lady Ross held Hermione all the tighter for a moment before gentling her hold. “But I also fear that he did not stop at a mere proposal as I am sure that you would be equal to meeting such an offer without it discomposing you so?”

“When I was attempting to stop him speaking he seemed to take it as invitation to move to a more intimate form of embrace. I couldn’t find a way to compel him to release me, until eventually I resorted to stamping on his foot. I had barely finished making it very clear that I would never accept his addresses when I heard Miss Brown approaching and called out to her.”

“You did well to keep your composure as well as you did then my dear” praised Lady Ross. “Do not fear that you are become the subject of conjecture, for I doubt any but myself and Lady Longbottom know you well enough to have noticed the small signs of distress in your face on your return. Lady Longbottom has long been my good friend, and would not whisper of her suspicions to others. Miss Brown may suspect also that you were in need of rescue, for I can think of no other reason why she would walk out again once returned to the tables, but I feel sure that you can rely upon her keeping your confidence also as she has become a good friend to you this Season.”

“Thank you for that reassurance. I had wondered if I had betrayed my discomposure such that others would have noticed. Miss Brown is sure to know that something was wrong, if for no other reason than all I could think of to explain my delay was to state that I had been discussing the works of Mrs Wollstonecraft with Mr Weasley!”

“Yes, Miss Rose may believe that, as I doubt she knows that good lady’s writings, but I expect Miss Brown will be aware enough of their contents to know that Mr Weasley is extremely unlikely even to be able to name them let alone discuss them at any length.” Hermione exchanged a small smile with Lady Ross at the thought of Mr Weasley attempting such a feat of intelligence, separating herself from that lady’s embrace as she did.

“The question is what to do now” continued Lady Ross. “You cannot I’m afraid avoid meeting with Mr Weasley again as we do move in many of the same circles, at least at the wider level. I can ensure that you do not need to receive him here at the house without my presence but I’m afraid I cannot forbid the family as a whole as that would be a snub as would be sure to set tongues wagging.”

“I know, Minerva” replied Hermione, “but I fear I will not be able to face him with composure even in a public setting.”

“You will cope my dear; I have no fear of that. Perhaps we can manage at least your first meeting to ensure that you have the support of others? Let me think on that a little, and with your permission I will consult Lady Longbottom, for she has more knowledge of the younger members of the ton than I do.” Hermione nodded at her in agreement. “Let me turn our conversation to what I hope will be more pleasant matters child”

“What else do you wish to discuss?” wondered Hermione.

“Why the matter of suitors to whom you would give a welcome should they wish to address you!” returned Lady Ross with a roguish grin. “I admit that I am baffled as to which gentleman in particular has won your favour, if indeed such a singular gentleman exists.” Hermione’s colour rose until she once again resembled a peony. “Forgive me for prying, but I would wish to know if I can perhaps help you make sense of your impressions as I am aware that you can learn but a little of a gentleman’s character from the way he behaves at a ball!”

“I admit to being somewhat confused by my reactions at times Lady Ross.”

“Minerva my child, while we are in private at least” reminded Lady Ross.

“Minerva then,” continued Hermione. “I would welcome your guidance, as though Miss Brown has indeed become a close friend I cannot but agree that her perspective is as limited as my own.”

“Well, shall I begin again?” asked Lady Ross, to which Hermione at once agreed. “While others may believe Viscount Fitzroy to be worthy of consideration, I think I am not wrong is stating that there is no attraction on either part, beyond that of like intelligent minds for another who can follow their arguments in discussion?”

“Yes, Minerva. While I agree that he is all one could look for in a gentleman, he is not for me. Indeed I would not be surprised if before much longer he were to make an announcement that he is to finally renounce his bachelor status.”

“Ah, you caught that did you? I thought you were not like to have missed those signs unless you had been blinded by your own emotions.” Lady Ross nodded in satisfaction that her ward should have shown such perspicacity. “And similarly I think you are aware that the Earl of Longbottom is but waiting for the passage of time before he makes an offer?”

“Yes, and I hope that his patience will be rewarded in due course.”

“Which leaves us with two suitors to contemplate. For my part, I have naught to say to the detriment of either, saving only that the Vicomte is perhaps a little more concerned with his clothing than most gentlemen, while the Duke has a tendency to be a sporting gentleman. However neither takes these faults to extreme and you know that unlike many an ambitious mama I have no wish for you to choose merely upon the guides of title or fortune so it then becomes simply a case of which you prefer.” At this she looked expectantly at her ward, hoping that she would feel she could confide the secrets of her heart.

“I admit that though both gentlemen have been all that is correct in their behaviour, I have at times found myself transported beyond myself while in company of both, but I confess that I believe that if I were to express a preference it would be to the Duke’s benefit.” Hermione blushed even more at speaking so candidly of her innermost feelings, but was glad to have the opportunity to confide in another for she had been sorely missing the talks she had been used to having with both parents at times before their deaths.

“In that case, my advice to you would be to continue to learn what you can of both, by conversing with them and with their families and friends. One can learn much of a person’s character by their choice of friends and the way their families speak of them after all.” To this Hermione smiled, thankful that she was not being pushed to a decision so soon. “Now, I don’t know about you my child, but I feel in need of sustenance before we meet the day in full.” With this, Lady Ross rose, and moved to the door. “I shall see you downstairs momentarily” she stated before leaving Hermione to complete her toilette in a more peaceful mood than that in which she had woken.


	17. Chapter 17

His Grace the Duke of Peverell walked into his townhouse leaving his horse in the care of his groom, safe in the knowledge that he would be walked and cooled down carefully after the bruising ride they had taken that morning in the park. Handing his whip and gloves to the waiting footman, he nodded to the butler to approach.

“My Lord”, murmured the retainer in melodious tones, “Viscount Fitzroy is partaking of breakfast in the small dining room, and I believe would appreciate your attending him there. I shall inform the cook of your return so that she may send up fresh eggs for your consumption.”

“Thank you, Dobson” responded the Duke, changing his course as he did to move to join his uncle.

“Good Morning Peverell” greeted the Viscount on espying his nephew entering the breakfast parlour. “I take it that your ride was successful in ridding you of at least some of the megrims you brought home with you from yesterday’s outing?”

“I do feel better for a gallop Uncle” agreed the Duke. “Though I would take issue with your description of me as having been in such a poor way as to describe me as suffering from a megrim!”

“Well, you were certainly most Friday faced when you returned to dinner last eve. I assume something occurred to displease you? Did the inestimable Miss Granger perhaps show a preference for another, such as my swell of a godson?”

“Would that that were the case!” was the surprising riposte of the Duke to this query. “I would hope that I would be able to wish the pair of them well were they to show a degree of mutual admiration such as that, despite what it might mean for my own hopes in that direction.”

“So, if not Draco, do I perceive that the fair maiden favoured another who you find less suitable to win her hand?”

“Not so much that she showed another favour, but that her company was stolen from me, and I was given but a poor substitute. I don’t see why certain members of the ton insist that because my mother was flame-haired that that should presuppose a preference in my heart for locks of a similar hue.” The Duke nodded his thanks to the butler who was placing a plate of eggs before him, and adding to it slices of ham. “We’ll serve ourselves if we wish any more Dobson” he said, gesturing to the footman to be included in the dismissal.

“I take it then that you were afflicted by the Weasleys” continued the Viscount once the door had fully closed behind the servants. “I do believe that Lady Weasley is the only one I have heard espouse such a view of late. Certainly your latest Cytherean was decidedly brunette, and I doubt any who have been intimate enough with you to know of any of your light o’ loves would be in any doubt that you have no preference as to hair colour.”

“Ah yes, the delectable Chinese milliner” smirked the Duke. “She was indeed a tasty armful, but longer exposure showed me that she was not suited for providing me company outside the bedroom, and I find that I crave stimulation of my mind as much as my body. She was not long alone once it became known that she had left my protection. As to the Weasleys, yes you are correct in your singling them out as the cause of my ill-humour. “

“Their pursuit of you has become more pronounced this Season” replied the Viscount, applying himself to his own plate as he did. “I believe that Sir Arthur is finding himself somewhat purse-pinched, as his wife has drawn the bustle somewhat too freely in the attempt to secure a match for Miss Weasley.”

“Thankfully Lady Weasley did not make an appearance, but her two youngest did manage to inveigle themselves into our small group as we were walking about the Heath. I am not sure quite how they managed it, but they separated me from Miss Granger and inserted themselves as our respective partners for the return to the table area.”

“Ah, and no doubt Miss Weasley was her usual unsubtle self when it came to attempting to suggest that you make your acquaintance with her more intimate.”

“Not only that, but I suspect that her brother took the opportunity to upset Miss Granger by applying for her favour in somewhat vigorous fashion.”

“Miss Granger took no harm I hope? I would be displeased to think that such an upstart should have caused problems for such a refreshingly intelligent damsel.”

“No permanent harm I think. Miss Brown proved herself an able friend to Miss Granger and found some way to retrieve her when she realised that her friend had become separated from our group. Indeed I am sure that none beyond our own group were even aware that aught was amiss.”

“I am pleased to hear that, although I suspect you should add Longbottom’s grandmother and Miss Granger’s guardian to the list of those who noticed the signs of trouble. That redoubtable pair are more discerning than many give them credit for, besides having the advantage of having known you all since your births. Still, it is good to hear that the larger part of those invited were unaware of any happenings that might leave Miss Granger open to criticism. After all, the Duchess of Peverell must be above reproach.”

“The Duchess?” spluttered the Duke. “We were speaking of Miss Granger!”

“Are they not one and the same? At least, I believe that if matters go as you would wish she will become so in the course of time?” The Viscount was surprised to see that his nephew could still raise a blush at his speaking of such matters.

“I, that is, if she would prove to be of a mind to accept me, I should be pleased to bestow my estate upon her” returned the Duke, though not without many false starts as he opened the innermost thoughts of his heart to the scrutiny of his uncle, the one man whose opinion would ever guide him.

“If such a thing should come to pass, I would be pleased to call her niece” responded the Viscount, taking pity on his nephew’s obvious plea for approval. “Of course, should matters fall otherwise I would be equally pleased to call her Vicomtesse de Malfoi” he continued with a hidden smirk at the thought of provoking a more indignant response.

“Or perhaps also daughter if your win plans come to fruition?” he was surprised to hear returned to him by the Duke.

“Daughter?” he queried, “I don’t believe I take your meaning.”

“Come now, Uncle” return the Duke. “Did you think me so blind as not to see that you were likely to make an offer to the present Vicomtesse sooner or later? Such a match would make the Vicomte your son in law as well as in church, and thus his future spouse your daughter.” It was the Viscount’s turn to be surprised by his companion’s observations, though he did not betray such by even the smallest of changes to his expression.

“I had not realised that my relationship with the Vicomtesse was the subject of speculation. We have ever been close in our support of one another in raising the two of you, and naught has changed in that.”

“Speculation? Not that I am aware, although I cannot be the only person to have discerned an additional warmth in your interactions in recent weeks. If it is on my behalf that you hesitate, then please do not feel that you need do so. I would be happy indeed to dance at your wedding, as I believe you would be to return such a favour.”

“I admit your welfare is one of my considerations, as is that of the Vicomte. I had thought all hope of my making the Vicomtesse an offer was over long before I was ever in a position to do so, and had resigned myself to standing her friend this many a year, but I own that I have recently begun to hope that I might find favour with her should I dare to approach her with an offer. The fact that the two of you are likely before much longer to enter such a state of connubial bliss has also encouraged me to begin to form my own plans for the future.”

“Mayhap we should then plan together to win our brides? I believe that you could have won the Vicomtesse many a year ago had you but had the courage, and I feel sure that her lack of encouragement to any other these many years can be laid partly to her wish to wait for you to come up to the mark. She has been a veritable Penelope I believe, albeit she has been awaiting a suitor and not a husband.”

“In that case, I suggest that you begin to make more of an effort to show your appreciation of Miss Granger. I know your behaviour must be circumspect so as not to open her to censure, but you can certainly make more of the time you can spend with her. Your floral tribute after the Longbottom ball was well received, and certainly you cannot be criticized for repeating such a gesture. If I may make a further suggestion, then a more permanent gift that would be appreciated would be a book for her perusal. I know her to be interested in many subjects, but perhaps a volume of poetry would strike the correct note with such a lady?”

“Thank you for such guidance Uncle” replied the Duke. “I shall consult with Dobson for his knowledge of flowers is beyond reproach for a house servant, probably because his father was for many years in charge of the gardens at Peverell.”

“That is indeed a good idea nephew.”

“The perhaps we could get up a small outing. Do you think the Vicomtesse would agree to stand chaperone should Lady Ross be unavailable, or even in addition so that we could include Miss Brown? I would like to drive Miss Granger again, but hesitate to make my partiality too obvious so soon. I fear there are many who would welcome the opportunity to decry her as aiming too high given her own lack of title.”

“I see no reason why we should not attempt a carriage drive of some sort. We should determine an objective for our journey – perhaps we could consider the Royal Observatory at Greenwich? That may appeal to Miss Granger’s intellect, while providing amusement also for Miss Brown, and any other young lady you may wish to include. I assume you would wish to have both Longbottom and Draco accompany us if they are available?” The Duke thought for a while before making his response.

“That seems to make sense.” He continued slowly, thinking as he went “I don’t believe the Vicomte holds a particular affection for Miss Granger, but rather regards her as do you, that is to say as a welcome change of pace from the usual silly geese that are presented to us as ‘suitable brides’. If the Vicomtesse would be so kind as to offer the use of her landau, then with my own barouche we would have seats for eight, and I believe could dispense with the requirement for the attendance of Lady Ross. I own that I cannot think of a third young lady to invite, but perhaps the Vicomtesse can suggest a name as she may know if her son has shown any sign of a preference?”

“I shall enquire as to her thoughts on the matter when next we meet” replied the Viscount. “I take it that the most important point is to avoid the inclusion of Miss Weasley?” The Duke could not withhold a shudder at the thought of including that young lady in such an intimate party.

“Quite!” he expostulated, to the amusement of his uncle, before the two went their separate ways for the day, both secure in the knowledge that their hopes for the future were supported by the other.


	18. Chapter 18

Lady Molly Weasley did not regard herself as being particularly out of the ordinary. Her hopes and dreams were wrapped up in her children, and she would regard herself as having been most successful once they were all settled in good marriages and providing her with grandchildren to dandle on her knee. In that she was like many of her contemporaries; her only distinction lay in having seven children survive to adulthood, although she was glad to think she had but the one daughter to see safely married as opposed to Mrs Brown who had four for whom to find husbands and then finally a son to inherit his father’s holdings.

She would have been horrified to be categorised as grasping, but it cannot be denied that she was of the decided opinion that all of her children should be aiming to raise the Weasley name above the rank it held now and she had high hopes that her daughter at least would be able to say that her husband held more than a mere baronetcy. She was therefore reclining in her bed over her morning chocolate, and avoiding taking notice of the latest duns by idly considering if Honiton or Valenciennes lace would best adorn the wedding gown her Ginevra would don on the happy day when she wed. Her idyll did not last long before she was joined by her youngest child, who was in a decided snit.

“That cock-sure gabster of a brother of mine has made a mull of it and may have queered his pitch with Miss Granger for good!” she exclaimed as she approached her mother.

“Your language! I suppose I should expect it with so many older brothers but do try and restrain yourself a little” remonstrated that lady in surprise. “Whatever do you mean my dear?”

“Why that he made her an offer yesterday, but she has obviously refused him, and from the way he was full of the blue-devils the entire journey home I suspect he feels that he is now without hope. I can but hope that he has not caused her such a fright that she rushes into an arrangement elsewhere. It would be too bad indeed if his ham-fistedness should cause me to lose all chance of catching the Duke.” This last was said with such a toss of her auburn hair that her mother was afraid for a moment that it would land in the still unfinished chocolate.

“His failure, if failure it be, with Miss Granger need not presuppose your own my child” was the maternal response to this tirade.

“But if she is still unattached, I believe she will not think it too far to raise her eyes to look to catch the Duke. You didn’t see the way he looked at her when we first came together yesterday, or the contrast to his manner towards me when he was become my escort. His manners did not fail, but there was none of the warmth he showed her. I cannot understand her appeal, for she is no great beauty, and her portion cannot be large even if she is to inherit from the Countess of Ross as is said.”

“Do not fret so child,” comforted her mother. “No young miss is so high in the instep that she may flout the rules of Society, and Miss Granger has not the experience to avoid all the traps that lie before her. You may yet call her sister, so do not yet break from her entirely.”

“No Mama” responded Miss Weasley, comforted that her mother thought all was not yet lost. Her mother’s maid then entering the room, Miss Weasley quit it, leaving her mother to rise deep in thought of how she could arrange for both her youngest to gain their wished for partners in life.

Lady Weasley entered the breakfast parlour to find her youngest son in solitary splendour, making such inroads into the ham that she feared that cook would find naught to serve on the morrow. Allowing the manservant to serve her a plate of kippers she then dismissed him from the room, leaving her tête-à-tête with her offspring.

“And how did you enjoy your visit to Hampstead Heath yesterday?” Lady Weasley hoped that a general enquiry would elicit the details she sought without betraying her prior knowledge of his lack of success.

“’Twas well enough I suppose” grunted her son through a mouthful of egg. “Though I doubt Ginny felt that way as she did not seem to find favour in Peverell’s eyes at all.”

“Perhaps so, Ronald” replied the matron, delicately separating the flakes of kipper before her. “You do not seem quite so sanguine as your words would suggest.” This was met only by a blank stare from her son, though it did not cause him to cease his consumption of the s laid out before him. “I mean that you are not so content as you would normally be, my boy” probed Lady Weasley.

“If by that you mean that I’m Friday-faced, or looking as queer as Dick’s hatband then you are quite wrong!”

“I doubt that Ronald,” replied Lady Weasley. “If I may be so bold as to employ a phrase I’ve heard all you boys employ at various times, you’re doing it rather too brown!” Mr Weasley shrugged shoulder to this remark in tacit admission of its veracity. “Tell me what’s amiss?” she wheedled, “after all, I may be able to see a way through for you.”

“Mayhap you can, though I’m at Point Non Plus as to how to proceed. I’ve been drawing the bustle a little too freely, and must hope for a change of luck at the tables or I shall be forced to play on vowels until quarter-day.”

“Really, Ronald, must you use such cant in my presence? I hope you modulate your language when in company! But tell me what occurred at the Heath, for I collect that something must have brought you to this state of despair?”

“If you must know, I managed to find a way to be private with Miss Granger, and made her an offer, only to be rebuffed in no uncertain terms. Even when I attempted an embrace to persuade her she refused me. She even stamped on my foot, leaving a nasty mark on my Hessians which I’m sure was remarked by all and sundry on our return to the general group. As for that interfering Miss Brown and her simpering sister, if they had not appeared I’m sure I could have shown Miss Granger that I am not beneath her touch!”

“So you treated her as if she were a barque of frailty such as you have associated with since you started in the petticoat line and not the young lady she purports to be? And you wonder why you were refused! You were clear that it was marriage you were offering and not a carte-blanche? “

“She could not have doubted it – why I even mentioned that she would likely be the only Mrs Weasley in England most of the time as William needs must coddle his bride by allowing her to spend so much time with her family in Paris.”

“Hardly a perfect reason for consenting to marry you. Still all is not lost.”

“It isn’t? I don’t see how, for she was quite clear that she would not welcome my renewing my addresses on another occasion.”

“So, we must assume that she will ask Lady Ross to ensure that you are not admitted to her presence with the avowed intention of making her another offer. This does make it more difficult, but we may still prevail. You are still determined to have her to wife?”

“Yes Mama” replied Mr Weasley, with a stubborn cast to his expression. “I know that I am unlikely to win a titled lady, nor one of great fortune, but Miss Granger will bring sufficient with her to see me able to set myself up in good style, and all I need do is ensure there’s a library in whichever house we end up using and no doubt she’ll keep herself well out of my way.”

“The question then becomes one of ensuring you have time to win her favour, or at the least her acceptance” mused Lady Weasley, though a small part of her could not help but pity Miss Granger should she be inveigled into a marriage such as the one depicted so clearly by her son. She herself may not have much in common with her husband, but he did at least respect her, and appreciate her having provided him so well in terms of offspring.

“But how am I to do that?” replied Mr Weasley. “If I am unable to approach her at her home, then that leaves another semi-public approach such as yesterday, and I should not be surprised if she were to keep close to Lady Ross or Miss Brown when in public.”

“So we must separate her from them. I wonder if we could find a way to have her journey in our carriage; it could then take a longer route than needed to allow you time to make your pleas.”

“I don’t see how we could achieve that; she would be unwilling to accept even your presence as sufficient chaperonage plus she seems to have caught the favour of the Vicomtesse de Malfoi as well as Lady Ross and Lady Longbottom. It’s rare that not one of those ladies is present at an event this Season.”

“So we will have to consider carefully how to arrange it” said Lady Weasley, musing as to the possibilities.

Their conversation was halted by the arrival of Miss Weasley, who took one glance at the pair before remarking with apparent insouciance as to their solemnity. This led, as may be expected, to an affronted retort from her brother, and for a while the atmosphere was more suited to the nursery than the breakfast parlour. Eventually peace was restored, and Miss Weasley was enlightened as to the subject under discussion before her entrance. The three then spent quite some time in considering their options, for Miss Weasley was more than happy to provide her own brand of cunning to the plans being thought up by the pair, feeling as she did that this was the best way of clearing her own path to the altar.

Eventually, the three were forced to cease their conference by the return of the manservant with a card from the first of the day’s visitors, and so the two ladies moved to the receiving room, though all were convinced that they had at least the beginnings of a workable strategy to ensnare Miss Granger and so were able to meet their company with expressions betraying naught but content with the world before them.


	19. Chapter 19

Hermione was thankful that her first meeting with Mr Weasley following the ill-fated outing to Hampstead Heath passed off without comment from any outside her immediate circle, given that the occasion was the next assembly at Almack’s. He seemed to have accepted her refusal with better grace than she had expected, and merely greeted her as he did many other of the various debutantes awaiting invitations to dance. In fact he gave every appearance of having transferred his affection to a Miss Vane. He had not only engaged her for the supper dance but had begged a Patroness to present him to her as a suitable partner with whom to waltz.

Hermione therefore felt she could put all thoughts of his offer behind her, and try to enjoy the amusements offered to her at the endless soirees, concert parties and al fresco breakfasts that were the base of social interaction in the ton. Such was the whirl of outings that she found herself in need of refreshing her outfit, and so agreed with Miss Brown to make a foray into the depths of the Pantheon Bazaar together. Mrs Brown agreed to act as duenna to Hermione as well as her own daughter, and even Miss Rose was elevated from the nursery and allowed to accompany her elder sister once more in preparation for her own expected debut the following Season.

The three girls spent a pleasant hour in choosing ribbons and trying on new wisps of lace that masqueraded as bonnets under the indulgent eye of Mrs Brown. That lady was herself feeling that all was well with the world as Miss Brown had confided to her only the previous evening that she felt sure that a certain Mr Finch-Fletchley had made it clear to her that he was seriously considering making her an offer, and she herself was minded to accept him. A general air of contentment surrounded the party as a whole, and even the shopkeeper seemed to feel it, for they showed no impatience with the discussion of which particular shade of ribbon best matched Miss Brown’s cerulean striped muslin.

This feminine utopia was interrupted by one of the Brown’s footmen, who approached at as close to a run as a good servant would ever dare display. He handed a note to Mrs Brown, with the information that it had been brought by a messenger who stated that it was urgent and could not wait for their return to the house for luncheon. Mrs Brown hurriedly opened the missive, only to have her face pale as she read the contents.

“My dear Miss Granger” she uttered in tones so full of pity that Hermione felt her heart drop through the very floor beneath her. “Lady Ross has been taken most ill, and her affliction is such that the doctor has advised that the vicar be called. This note is to ask you to return to her with all haste.”

“But she was quite well this morning?” exclaimed Hermione, in complete astonishment at such news and looking frantically for she knew not what.

“We will head immediately to the carriage” began Mrs Brown.

“But, Mama, do you not remember that we sent John Coachman away for we had planned on being here above two hours, and we are but one hour past our arrival time?” reminded Miss Rose.

“But what am I to do?” replied Hermione. “It is too far for a chair, if one could even be got. Perhaps your footman here could hail me a hansom?”

“Certainly not Miss Granger. Even if I felt it suitable for you to make such a trip alone at the best of times, I do believe you ought not to be alone just now. You do look awfully pale my dear” was the immediate reply from Mrs Brown. She was correct in calling attention to Hermione’s pallor, for the girl was beginning to feel as though her legs were made of water. Luckily the shopkeeper there was able to provide a chair, and Hermione was soon seated, while Miss Brown took hold of her hand and chafed it between her own, trying to bring what comfort she could to her friend.

“Perhaps Mama I could accompany Miss Granger home, while you take Rose back to the house?” next suggested Miss Brown, to be greeted with an uncertain shake of her mother’s head.

“If we can find no other way it may do, but it would not be my choice Lavender dear” came the reply.

“Why, Miss Granger, whatever is amiss?” came the familiar tones of Lady Weasley, as she walked up to the group standing around Hermione’s chair with Miss Weasley beside her. A few words from Mrs Brown were sufficient to inform the newly arrived matron of the issue at hand, to which she immediately offered her assistance. “Perhaps I can help” she started, “for I have my town coach waiting my return now, just a step from here. I would be happy to take you up and deliver you to your home.”

The absence of Mr Weasley did much to allow Hermione to accept this suggestion, after glancing for approval from Mrs Brown, who was only too happy to find such a neat solution to hand. Making quick work of her farewells, the distraught young lady then moved along with her new companions to their waiting carriage, and entered it ready for the trip back to Mayfair.

Lost in the fog of shock at the unwelcome news as she was, along with the awakening of memories of a similar journey when her mother’s illness was first discovered, she took no notice of the streets along which they were travelling, or of the length of time the journey had taken, until the coach came to a halt. At this she moved to descend from the coach, but was held back by Miss Weasley, who stated that they were merely taking up her brother. Hermione thus found herself in the company of the man she had but days before refused, and more than that, was trapped there until such time as they reached her house.

She soon became aware that they were approaching the Weasley townhouse, which lay a few streets over from her own, and was surprised to find the coach stop there and the two ladies leave her alone with Mr Weasley. Her attempts at protesting such a course of action, were ignored, and she soon found herself enclosed with Mr Weasley her sole companion. Now she took more notice of the direction they were taking, and was horrified to discern that they were in fact moving away from her supposed destination.

“Mr Weasley, please have the coach turned. I fear the coachman has been given the incorrect address, and I must attend Lady Ross as soon as I may.”

“Don’t worry Miss Granger, or should I say Hermione?” replied Mr Weasley, with a strange expression on his face. “John Coachman knows exactly where we are headed, and Lady Ross does not expect you back until long after luncheon. You were to have spent the afternoon with the Browns I believe?” Hermione realised that the expression of the man facing her was one of anticipation and not a little triumph.

“But, her illness? The message?” exclaimed Hermione.

“A ruse my dear!” Hermione was dismayed to hear Mr Weasley say. “’Twas simple enough to send a messenger to the Brown’s house claiming he was sent from Ross House. In due course that same messenger will deliver a note from you to Miss Brown, stating that your guardian is much recovered, and thanking her for her family’s good wishes this morning. At the same time, Lady Ross will receive a note to say that you will be dining with the Browns this evening, thus giving us even more time to travel before you are missed.” At this Hermione immediately moved to open the door, only to be blocked by Mr Weasley and forced back onto her seat.

“I wouldn’t try that if I were you” he stated. “Leaving a coach travelling at this speed would almost certainly leave you with injuries, and even if it did not, I doubt you have enough coin in that reticule of yours to persuade anyone respectable to provide you with a method of returning to Mayfair.” A glance out of the small side window showed the truth of this assertion, for while they had been speaking the coach had left the central streets and had reached the post road leading west. Even though only a pair were in harness, rather than the four that would be usually be used for longer journeys, the speed achieved on the open road was significant. Hermione sat back in the seat, resigning herself to waiting for the coach to stop to change horses to endeavour to make an escape, and hoping that it would still be possible for her to return with no one the wiser for her absence.

For some time she was left to her thoughts, though this did not bring her any comfort, for she was aware that with each passing minute they travelled the possibility of her escaping without a stain upon her reputation became ever smaller. She knew that should anyone become aware that she had spent even this much time alone with an unrelated gentleman she would be regarded as compromised, and rapidly realised that this was the aim of Mr Weasley. He did not even have to embrace her as he had when he approached her at the Heath, for simply travelling in a closed carriage could be enough to place her beyond redemption save by marriage, and even then she could say goodbye to associating with those she had been used to call friend.

All she could hope was that when they did stop, she would find herself somewhere where she could either find a way back home unseen by the ton or find a benevolent family who could lend her countenance on the return. Her mind shied away from thoughts of what might befall her should she not be able to make an escape, for she knew that marriage to Mr Weasley may be her only way to retain even a small claim to respectability in that case. Settling herself so that she was looking away from her unwelcome fellow traveller, she tried to remember what she had with her in the way of funds, and what she had spent that morning. She soon realised that she truly did not have enough to consider hiring her own conveyance, as her credit with the traders at the Bazaar – or rather that of Lady Ross – was such that she had had no need to prepare to pay cash.

Mr Weasley forbearing to attempt to engage her in conversation, she was left to her contemplation of the passing scenery, as she tried to determine their location and direction, and thus try to work out where they were likely to stop first. She soon became conscious that her only chance was likely to be at the post-inn at Slough, for she could not recall an inn earlier than that where horses of the quality even of that attained by the Weasleys would be left. Accordingly, she determined to take what respite she could until then, and so she closed her eyes, resolute in her wish not to provide Mr Weasley any further excuse for restraining her, and hoping somewhat forlornly that somehow she would be discovered to have been coerced away from safety sooner than the time suggested by Mr Weasley’s earlier discourse.


	20. Chapter 20

If she had but known it, Hermione’s hope was not misplaced, for she had in fact been missed before the messenger could deliver his fraudulent missives. The Vicomte and Vicomtesse de Malfoi had quit Town for a short while to return to the nearest of the Black estates in search of respite from the bustle of ton life by answering a call for instruction from the steward of that property. Viscount Fitzroy found himself somewhat at a loose end, and so had agreed to accompany his nephew in making a morning call upon the inhabitants of Ross House.

Having been disappointed in the primary aim of their visit by the absence of Miss Granger, they had made their way towards Hogwarts to take a meal there before deciding how to fill their afternoon. Somewhat to their surprise, on their way they crossed paths with the Brown carriage, and could not help but notice the lack of Miss Granger amongst the company therein. Traffic being such that they were temporarily stationary they were able to greet Mrs Brown and her two daughters without descending from the seat of the curricle they were occupying.

A carefully inconsequential enquiry as to the reason for the ladies’ outing soon elicited the news of Lady Ross’ illness and thereafter Miss Granger’s distress and then relief at being offered succour in the form of a seat in the Weasley carriage to take her back to Ross House. This initially brought no more than the expected wishes for the recovery of Lady Ross before the blockages were cleared and both carriages were again able to traverse the street.

“I am perturbed Uncle Fitzroy” opened the Duke as he delicately manoeuvred his curricle past the street hawker who seemed to be causing the obstruction, “for have we not but a few minutes past seen Lady Ross in not only good health but the best of spirits?”

“Indeed” responded the Viscount, “and moreover there was no sign of Miss Granger in the house. In fact Lady Ross seemed quite unaware that she was not still in the company of the inestimable Brown ladies.”

“I cannot believe that Miss Granger would have perpetrated such a Banbury story, but admit I cannot see who else would have reason to do so.”

“Can you not?” was the grim response to this from the Viscount. “Such a message is probably the only way one could separate a careful young lady such as Miss Granger from her appointed chaperone, but we do not know for certain that this is what has happened. While Mrs Brown gave us to understand it had been some time since they had seen Miss Granger on her way home, we do not know exactly how long it has been. It is possible that we have merely missed her return to Mayfair as she was conveyed by a different route.”

“The question then, Uncle, is what we are to do now.” The Duke was obviously concerned and his face seemed as though carved from stone in his efforts not to betray his emotions to the public. “I have no wish to raise such a hue and cry as must inevitably give rise to scandal, but at the same time I cannot but think it incumbent upon me to discern if Miss Granger has reached her home in safety or is even now in need of assistance.”

“I agree with your thoughts nephew” replied the Viscount. “May I suggest that we adhere to our initial plan, and find an anteroom at Hogwarts from where we can perhaps discreetly send a message to Lady Ross to ascertain if Miss Granger has returned?” This being agreed upon by the Duke, the young gentleman returned his full attention to the road before him until they had reached St James’ Street, where he passed the reins to his trusted groom with instructions to walk the horses for a time.

Entering the club, they were fortunate to find the small study was free, and were able to annex it for their use by the simple ruse of merely closing the door upon their entry, this being the accepted sign that the room was in use for private conference and intrusions would not be welcomed. The desk in the corner soon provided paper and ink, and a short message to Lady Ross was drafted before the Duke took the wax that lay to hand and impressed it with his personal seal from the Peverell ring that adorned his right ring finger as always. He then took it in hand to find his groom but soon realised that the traffic had grown to such an extent that even the curricle would find it difficult to reach Mayfair speedily, and so instead looked to find one of the young boys who waited near the club in the hopes of earning a few coins for the delivery of messages by foot. To his relief he recognised one face among the group as being of a boy he had found in the past to be reliable, and more importantly on this occasion, both fast and honest. He entrusted his missive into the hands of that urchin, bidding him deliver it and wait for any reply that might be forthcoming, giving him a sixpence with a promise of another on his return.

He then returned to wait impatiently for the reply, having warned the doorman to watch for the response when it came, and bespeaking a meal for his uncle and himself for them to slake their hunger while they could do naught else. His uncle did his best to occupy his mind with other subjects, but it soon became clear that his thoughts could not but turn to the realisation that the young women he had only but recently admitted he wished to make his duchess might even now be compromised beyond saving.

They had barely time to consume the light repast that was laid before them before the urchin returned to claim his second sixpence, with a letter from Lady Ross confirming the absence of Miss Granger and requesting that he attend Lady Ross at his earliest opportunity. Accordingly the two gentlemen resumed their seats in the curricle and bound their way once more to Ross House, where they dismissed the groom with the curricle. Peverell House was but a short step away and they knew that should they indeed have to set out in search for Miss Granger then an enclosed carriage would no doubt be required for they could not hope to travel without Lady Ross, and they knew not in what state they would find the missing lady.

As they arrived they saw a messenger handing a letter to the butler, and called to him to halt before he could leave. They asked him to wait in case there was a reply and, leaving him in the care of a burly footman, accompanied the butler as he moved to deliver it into the hand of Lady Ross who was waiting in the afternoon parlour. Barely had the butler quit the room than Lady Ross tore open the letter, scanning it quickly before tossing it over to Viscount Fitzroy for his perusal.

“There is no way my dear Hermione penned that disgrace of a letter” stated the dowager emphatically. “Even were she to decide to remain with Miss Brown overnight, I cannot see her not requesting at least something in the way of necessities. Besides, you told me yourself in your message that she was not in the company of the Brown ladies when you saw them but an hour past.”

“It does seem somewhat abrupt for a young lady to have been the writer, besides being in less educated phrasing than I should have expected of one of Miss Granger’s calibre” agreed the Viscount, passing the letter back to its addressee.

“So we are in agreement that something has occurred?” asked the Duke of his elders, unable now to restrain the expression of worry upon his face.

“Yes, we must be” replied Lady Ross, “and I must beg your assistance, for I have no other means of discovering her whereabouts or of recovering her. I am certain that this has not been an occurrence of her planning. I am thankful indeed that I can rely upon your discretion as much as your knowledge.”

“I quite agree, Lady Ross, for I also cannot believe that Miss Granger would do such a thing as to leave your protection in this manner. The question now become one of determining what has actually occurred, as opposed to this pack of faradiddles” continued the Duke, looking to the Viscount in mute entreaty for assistance.

“As I see it there is but one explanation” mused the Viscount. “Mr Weasley must be behind this second message, for I can see no other person having the opportunity to divert Miss Granger on her journey here from the Bazaar. But the question then becomes one of if it were planned, or a spontaneous action, for he was not in the company of his mother and sister this morning so far as we are aware.”

“He could not have been” said Lady Ross, “for I cannot believe that if he were she would have accepted Lady Weasley’s offer, even in her concern for my well-being.”

“Which suggests that perhaps one or both of those ladies were complicit, and indeed, how else could they be sure to be present just when they were needed unless they knew of that first false message?” asked the Duke. “But this does not help us find Miss Granger!” He turned and stalked to the window, hoping to conceal at least in part his rising despair at the thought that he may not be able to find a way to prevent the loss of Miss Granger’s reputation, or even her virtue.

“As I see it, we must assume that she is in the company of Mr Weasley at least, and probably still in the family town coach, for if this is in truth an attempt at forcing her hand then they would not have dared risk her being seen.” Viscount Fitzroy worked his way through the quagmire of possibilities, trying to determine the best course of action. “This is also the probable reason for this letter Lady Ross. It is an attempt to delay the moment when pursuit is started. The question then becomes one of direction. Have they made for the Great North Road, with the intention of Gretna Green, or have they gone elsewhere with the intention of merely compromising her overnight, in the expectation that she would then acquiesce to a marriage rather than ruin?”

“Weasley has no blunt to spare on a long journey” said the Duke. “In fact I shouldn’t be surprised if he was high in Dun territory.”

“So where would he have gone with her?” queried Lady Ross, beginning to lose the composure she had to that point been holding to her as a shield.

“He could not have gone far, but would have to leave the city for he would wish to be sure that she could not simply hail a hackney carriage to return” reasoned the Duke.

“Then we must enquire, but without causing chatter” said Viscount Fitzroy. “We must send out trusted grooms to ask after the Weasley carriage, and see if we can determine their direction; if they go on horseback they needs must travel faster than a coach especially if as I suspect Weasley has only a pair in harness.” This course of action being agreed upon, Lady Ross and the Duke both sent messages to their respective stables, between them able to find grooms to cover all the main routes out of the city. A final groom was despatched to attempt to determine the whereabouts of the Weasley ladies, and confirm if their coach was absent even if they were at home.

There was then little that could be done but wait and hope that it would not be long before one at least returned with a sighting. As each groom was instructed to go no further than a certain point before returning they knew that they would not have to wait beyond the dinner hour, and hoped that it would not take even that long before they could begin their pursuit. Viscount Fitzroy descended to the staff hall to question the messenger, but beyond determining that he held a second letters from the same source addressed to Miss Brown there was little more to be learned and so he was dismissed after being convinced to leave that document with the Viscount, who opened it to find it purported also to be from Miss Granger, and informed the reader that she was safe at Ross House.

He returned to the parlour to inform his companions of his discoveries and they resigned themselves to the delay forced upon them. In the meantime, they sat discussing between them the options open in terms of protecting Miss Granger’s reputation, and Lady Ross was comforted to know that at the least, should she be recovered unharmed, there was the strongest probability of the Duke making his regard for her known more widely. She could but hope that they would indeed succeed in their aim, and that they would not be too late to prevent the granddaughter of her heart from being offended beyond endurance.


	21. Chapter 21

The slowing of the carriage disturbed Hermione from the light doze she had achieved despite her less than pleasant travelling companion. Looking briefly at Mr Weasley through her eyelashes she saw that he had surrendered completely to the arms of Hypnos, and was reclined upon the seat opposite with his mouth wide open. Taking the chance to cast her gaze out of the window of the carriage she realised that they had passed through Colnbrook and were arriving in Slough, and hoped that this meant that she would soon be able to find some way to escape her predicament.

To her surprise she noticed that they passed the main stage post, and the many minor inns that had sprung up in the hopes of supplanting it in the eyes of passing travellers. A little thought and she recollected the latest newspaper reports she had read of the various stopping places along the Bath Road as this part of the turnpike was known. She considered the possibility that their planned stop was therefore the Castle or the Windmill, both of which would be soon reached once they had passed Slough and reached its neighbouring village of Salt Hill, only to discount both due to their reported high prices. She could not see one with pockets so obviously to let as Mr Weasley finding the blunt to patronise those establishments. Her hope must then lie at the Three Tuns just beyond them, and so she watched more closely the buildings they were passing for she knew not how long she would have to make her move.

The clock displayed on the church they passed told her that she had been gone for three hours, so either the false messages had fulfilled their intended purpose, or she had now been missed. She only wished she knew which she wished were the case; after all, if no one had missed her there was still the possibility of finding a way to return without losing her good name, but if she had been missed her chance of rescue was greatly increased as she felt sure that Lady Ross would not hesitate in seeking assistance. So deep in these thoughts was she, and so carefully watching for the sign of the Three Tuns Inn that the crest upon the large fashionable coach drawn up before the Castle Inn did not at first register with her. It was only the jolt of the carriage being halted that caused her to actually see what was before her and it was but he matter of a moment before she grasped the opportunity that she had been so unexpectedly granted.

There before her was none other than the travelling coach of the Vicomte de Malfoi although she had not known that he intended leaving Town this day. The continuing snorts and snuffles emanating from her unwished for consort assured her that she was still unobserved, and she made the most of the chance, looking carefully for any sign of the Vicomte himself. To her dismay this was unforthcoming; although she saw that the fresh horses were only just being put to the carriage, suggesting that he would certainly soon appear. Her mind seemed to be moving faster than it ever had before, trying desperately to find some way to pass a message as she knew she still had no way of leaving the carriage without assistance as though the door could be opened from the inside, she had no way of descending to the road without the steps being let down for her.

Grasping her reticule in her hand, she felt the edges of her notebook, on which she had only that morning listed the lengths and types of ribbon that she had agreed with Sarah would be best utilised in the refurbishing of her day dresses. With a further glance to check that the road would not yet allow passage for the carriage, she rummaged through the purse and drew out the notebook and its accompanying small pencil. A few words were all she could allow time for, and she scribbled them down as quickly as she could before tearing out the leaf. A moment’s more thought and she enclosed it in her handkerchief, tying the corners securely o that it would not fall out.

Barely had she competed this than she saw the Vicomte make his way out of the hostelry and approach his coachman to confer with him on the readiness of the horses. To her dismay, she found no way to attract his attention without also making her presence known to all around her before he turned and went back into the inn. Knowing that this was likely her only chance to seek aid from one known to her, and seeing it slip through her fingers like this was disheartening in the extreme. Giving herself a shake, she reminded herself that she was not the silly heroine of a Gothic novel, but a young woman of avowed intelligence, and moreover common sense and she could find a way to overcome even this setback.

At this she saw the Vicomte once more emerge, this time in the company of his mother with her maid a step behind them as they reached their coach. Determined to find a way to get her pleas to his attention, she conned the distance between the coaches, and in desperation threw her handkerchief towards it, only to see it fall short and come to a stop on the roadway. At that moment, the carriage she was seated in began once more to move, and she feared that this marked the loss of all hope that she might expect aid from any outside party. Just as they moved past the Castle Inn, she took one last glance out of the window, only to find herself looking directly at the Vicomte. Daring not to make a sound that would disturb Mr Weasley and inform him of even the possibility of her having communicated her request for help to another, she could merely mouth her plea while gesturing as best she could to the handkerchief lying forlornly on the road before she was carried beyond the distance where she could discern any expression of understanding on the Vicomte’s face.

At this point a large pothole made its presence known to the inhabitants of the carriage, and Mr Weasley woke at a start, and so she was forced to pretend that she had seen nothing of notice while he had been distracted from her actions.

“Not long now, Miss Granger, before we reach our planned change of horses” he remarked, apparently in the hope of reassuring her that her journey was soon to be over. “Of course I have my second pair awaiting me there, as we shall not have much further to go; Weasley Park is but a few more miles along the turnpike.” To her horror, Hermione realised that she was being conveyed to the Weasley family estate, so she could have no hope of finding any sympathetic to her plight there and needs must make what shift she could at the upcoming inn. She took a better hold upon her reticule then, knowing that the few coins it held were her only chance of making her escape.

In the meantime, the Vicomte had been shocked to see one he thought settled in London in a carriage not bearing the crest of her guardian, and apparently showing signs of some distress in her expression. Wondering at her frantic gesticulations, he handed his mother into the coach, before turning to look to check that his coachman was ready to set off once more on their journey. Only then did he spot the white handkerchief against the brown of the muddy road, and strode across to take it in his hand before it could be trampled by a passing horse. Immediately he saw the neatly embroidered monogram, confirming the identity of that piteous face that but a few moments before had beseeched his cognizance.

It was the work of a moment to discover the twist of paper contained within the linen, and but a moment more to decipher the scribbled note it held. In disbelief he read it through twice before moving to the carriage and thrusting it into the hands of his startled mother. While she read it, he bid the coachman hold a minute, and then returned to the Inn, calling for paper and ink as he went. This being provided with alacrity by the innkeeper’s servant, the Vicomte took the time to dash off a note of his own, before calling for a messenger and a fast horse to carry the man back to London. Passing the note off after making sure the man knew the correct direction and bidding him make all speed, he then paid the innkeeper the additional bill before returning to the company of his mother.

“My apologies for leaving you so precipitously, but I felt that speed was of the essence in ensuring that Lady Ross was informed of the matter” he said as he sat in the coach.

“You are forgiven the lack of manners, for I agree with the higher necessity of sending a message back to London” replied the Vicomtesse. “The matter now becomes one of if we can offer any further assistance, for I would not wish a marriage to one such as Mr Weasley upon Miss Granger even though I suspect I have no hope of calling her daughter as I once suspected might be the case?”

“Nor would I upon any young lady of sense let alone one of the quality of Miss Granger.” returned the Viscount, ignoring the reference to his possible affection for Hermione, with a small glance to his mother’s maid in concern for the lack of discretion they had shown in naming the lady.

“You need not worry about using the lady’s name here my son” offered his mother, following his thoughts without trouble. “Brigitte has been my maid since before your birth; she will not speak of this to any without our permission you know that!”

“Forgive me a moment’s concern for the good name of one who has done naught to deserve the loss of such Maman” replied the Vicomte before returning to the subject before them. “As the horses seemed all but blown, I can only assume that Mr Weasley plans to stop at the Three Tuns, which is but a few hundred yards ahead. We could perhaps manufacture a reason to stop there, but how we are to secure Miss Granger I do not know.”

“I suspect that if the option of escape is there, Miss Granger is resourceful enough to take it. I agree that we should attempt to find a way to offer her succour should she succeed in her attempt though. Perhaps we should begin our journey before the horses take a chill for standing? We can decide upon an excuse for stopping so soon if needed when we arrive.”

Her reasoning being sound and the Vicomte being in agreement with the plan, slight though it may be, he rapped upon the board and the coachman then gave the horses their heads and allowed the coach to proceed down the road, while in the opposite direction, a young man on horseback was moving as quickly as he dared to transport the Vicomte’s letter to its recipient in Mayfair.


	22. Chapter 22

Lady Ross and her two guests had spent an hour or so in planning their course of action for when they had a whisper of a direction in which to begin their search for Hermione. Eventually it was decided that Lady Ross would order her travelling coach made ready, and have her maid and Hermione’s both put together a change of clothes for their mistresses. She would then travel in the coach, together with her maid along the correct turnpike once they had determined which that was. It was hoped that this would suggest to any curious eyes that it was a planned expedition, and also avoid having to provide explanations for why Lady Ross was seen about town when there was no sign of Miss Granger. His Grace and the Viscount meanwhile, would journey on horseback, as that would be much the faster option, in the hopes of catching up to the Weasley coach in time to be able to prevent their reaching any great distance.

This being decided upon, and orders given to the servants to begin the preparations, including a message being sent to Peverell House for the Duke’s valet to put him up a change of shirt and prepare riding clothes for him and his uncle, the three returned to attempting to reason out where Hermione might have been taken. The groom sent to report on the whereabouts of Lady and Miss Weasley had soon returned to confirm that both were at home, but that Mr Weasley had ‘gone out of town unexpectedly’ in the family coach. Assured that their suppositions seemed to be correct so far, they settled down to wait, as patiently as they might, for further news before the butler announced that the cook had prepared a light meal for them which was served in the family dining room.

Conversation had slowed before finally ceasing as all became entangled in their own thoughts and misgivings over their chances of successfully retrieving Miss Granger. They were still picking desultorily at the repast in front of them, and the cook would later bemoan their lack of appreciation for her hard work in providing such delicacies as a jugged hare with so little notice of company. The Duke had the thought of going to change in readiness for his ride, until he realised that he could not very well then return to Ross House without it being observed, which would give rise to the very gossip they were so anxious to avoid. There was still a good while to wait before the grooms would start returning to report not having found anything, so they were constrained to linger and hope for an early report of success.

It was at this point that a messenger arrived at the house, and gave the butler to understand that the letter he carried was of the utmost urgency and importance. He was directed to the stables where he would be able to arrange for his horse, which was obviously hard-ridden, to be rubbed down and otherwise cared for prior to his making his return journey, albeit at a much gentler pace than that of his trip into London. The letter meanwhile was taken up to Lady Ross without delay, whereupon, not recognising the hand, and not being able to discern a seal in the wax holding it closed she almost tore it open.

“Dare I suppose that to be news of the sort we have been anticipating?” queried the Duke gently when she made no move to do more than stare at the page before her. Recalled to her surroundings, she passed the document to the Viscount before replying to the Duke.

“Indeed it is, and in many ways better than I dared hope. She has been seen, on the road in Salt Hill, headed west.”

“Seen!” exclaimed the Duke, “but who could have seen her? And if she has been recognised by one person known to us, who else may have such knowledge of her predicament?”

“It appears that Miss Granger was fortunate enough to be able to seek the assistance of my godson” replied the Viscount, having scanned the lines quickly while they spoke.

“So she is safe?”

“Not yet, nephew” continued Viscount Fitzroy. “It seems that she was unable to leave the coach in which she was transported from the town, but was able to get a small note to the Viscount imploring his aid. He says here that he and his mother will attempt to provide Miss Granger with a means of avoiding bringing notice upon herself as an unaccompanied young lady, but this depends on her finding a way to escape the company of Mr Weasley.”

“But we at least have a direction now – we can leave to follow them as we discussed?” The Duke seemed about to quit the room on the instant, before he was recalled by his uncle.

“We needs must still act with discretion Peverell. Miss Granger is not yet recovered, and too hasty a pursuit may yet cause tongues to wag” he was admonished by his uncle.

“Your pardon My Lady, Sir” replied the Duke, regaining his seat though with an expression of impatience upon his face.

“Then how do you suggest we proceed sirrah?” said Lady Ross, having reclaimed her composure. “I take it we can at least proceed as we had discussed with my heading towards Salt Hill? The Vicomte makes no mention of Hermione seeming hurt in any way, merely that she was unable to leave the carriage in which she was seated.”

“I do believe that we should follow that course of action, yes Lady Ross” replied the Viscount. “Malfoi has an estate that lies just east of Maidenhead, which I believe was his destination today in any case. I would suggest that you give that direction to your coachman, and let it be known also to the household servants that you and Miss Granger have been invited at the last minute to take a small break from the rigours of town by journeying there for a few nights. Peverell and I will travel separately, and hope to reach Miss Granger before she is forced to spend a night on the road without a chaperone. The Vicomtesse will of course lend her countenance to Miss Granger prior to your arrival.”

“If you will excuse us, Lady Ross” began the Duke, “I believe my uncle and I ought to take our leave of you, and return to change into riding clothes while you complete your preparations for your journey here.” This being met with agreement from the Countess, the two men quit the house and walked the short distance to Peverell House. In but twenty minutes, both men were changed and departing the house where their steeds awaited them. Soon they could be seen directing their horses between the throng of carriages and coaches that filled the streets and making their way towards the turnpike leading west out of town.

Once this was gained, they let their horses have their heads, and gave themselves over to enjoying what they could of their ride while their mounts worked out the initial fidgets. Both horses being prime bits of blood they soon settled into an easy canter, which they could keep up for many miles without becoming winded. This slight reduction of pace also allowed the two riders to converse with each other, and the Duke soon questioned the haste his uncle was even now exhibiting.

“Why such a rush? We know that the Vicomte will allow no harm to come to Miss Granger, so surely it is merely a case of reaching her to provide further reassurance that Lady Ross is on her way?”

“I did not like to mention it before Lady Ross” replied his uncle, “but the Weasley estate lies between Salt Hill and that belonging to the Vicomte. I cannot believe that Weasley would take her to the main house, but there could be any number of gamekeepers’ cottages and the like where he could constrain her without need to risk her attempting an escape.”

“I had not realised their estate lay so close to town” said the Duke, nodding in acceptance of his uncle’s reasoning. “I take it you fear that even the Vicomte will not be able to liberate her if Weasley can gain the boundaries of his family estate.”

“Quite!” was the grim reply, before both gentlemen returned their concentration to the road, which had become quite treacherous underfoot at that point. Once the turnpike was once more less threatening to the well-being of their mounts, they took up the conversation once more.

“Did Malfoi give any more detail than Salt Hill?” queried the Duke, wishing now that he had read the letter in full himself.

“Yes, he stated that he was just leaving the Castle Inn when the Weasley coach was held up on the road beside. He also said that the pair of cattle pulling the coach were all but finished, so they could not go further without a change. He hoped that meant that Weasley intended to pick up a new pair at the Three Tuns and so could be caught before reaching the Burrow lands.”

“We can but trust that he is correct in his speculation Uncle” replied the Duke to this heartening piece of information.

“I also trust that Miss Granger is sensible enough to have reasoned this out, and may yet have already effected a flight from Mr Weasley’s dubious charm. I have no doubt but that she is full of pluck and will not easily find herself overcome by the vapours or such other addle-pated nonsense. It is my fervent hope that we shall reach Salt Hill to find a message there directing us to join Miss Granger and the Vicomtesse for tea.”

“A hope we share Uncle, although I must admit there is a large part of me that would wish to have the pretext to put an end to Mr Weasley’s existence!”

“Such a thing would be, while no doubt initially gratifying, in the longer term a cause for you to lose the company of your peers, for even your exalted rank would not prevent your having to flee to the Continent should such a situation occur.”

“I see you feel I must swallow my spleen then, and restrain myself to merely planting him a facer.”

“It would be wise to do so certainly” was the sardonic response, although a glint in the Viscount’s eye suggested that he too was entertaining thoughts of how he would otherwise wish to see Mr Weasley at the point of his sword.

With a look of acknowledgment, the Duke turned his face back to the road, and seeing that it was clear, urged his steed to increase its pace just a touch from the trot into which they had dropped whilst conversing. The Viscount was not long in following his lead, and the two continued to make their way to find what was waiting for them at the Three Tuns Inn.


	23. Chapter 23

As Hermione had suspected, they were not on the road above a half hour more before the coach drew to a halt in the yard of the Three Tuns. No sooner had the driver begun slowing the horses than Mr Weasley had turned to Hermione, catching her by the arm and holding her back from reaching for the door.

“No need to worry about getting out Miss Granger” he murmured. “We shall only be here long enough for them to release this pair and put the new ones in harness. It should not take above five minutes and then we can be on our way to somewhere a little more…private.” The leer on his face was unmistakeable, even to a lady as sheltered as Hermione had always been, and it was only years of training that allowed her to hold back a shudder.

“I must beg your indulgence Mr Weasley” she replied, “for we have been in this carriage more than three hours now, and I was not prepared for such a journey when we began. I fear I find myself in dire need of a moment’s privacy.” She blushed a little at saying such a thing to a person not closely related to her, but could think of no other way that she might persuade him to allow her to leave the coach. Besides, she reassured herself, it had the added virtue of actually being the truth, albeit her need was not so immediate as she made it sound.

With a look at her face as if to assess her veracity, he rapped upon the sounding board and informed the coachman that they would stop for a little longer than had been planned. The postilion jumped down and came round to lower the step before opening the door so they could descend. He caught her by the wrist, holding so tightly that he ground the very bones against themselves, before almost growling at her.

“You are my cousin, taken ill on the road. I shall support you to the inn, and will allow you some time in a private parlour. If you make any attempt to draw attention to yourself in any way, I will carry you back out here and simply tell the innkeeper that you have gone mad. Do you understand me?”

Hermione nodded quickly, at which he released her hand long enough to move past her and out of the door before turning to lift her down. Keeping his arm around her, so that she had no chance to move away from him, he began walking towards the inn, where a manservant was awaiting.

“Is there a private parlour where my cousin here could rest awhile?” he enquired as they reached the door. “She has been dreadfully knocked about by the journey and has begged a respite.”

The servant nodded and gestured for them to follow him into the dim interior. Hermione glanced up as they passed the door into the main bar, before quickly looking down again when she felt the arm around her tighten its grip. They were led past a number of doorways before finally the servant opened the last in the passage, and stood back to allow them to enter the room.

It was clear that the servant had no great impression of the state of Mr Weasley’s purse, for it was scarcely bigger than a cupboard, but Hermione was thankful enough that it was indeed a private room, so she was not exposed to the stares of the common travellers such as those who occupied the main rom. Released as she was once they crossed the threshold, she moved to the chair before the window, and gratefully sank down. Mr Weasley meanwhile had taken the opportunity to ask for ale to be brought, and with a short glance to Hermione added a request for a jug of washing water.

The ale was not long in arriving, and the water shortly followed, the latter brought in by a young maid of all work, who looked to Hermione’s eyes to be no more than twelve years of age. Reminding Hermione of the fate that would befall her should she make an attempt to flee, Mr Weasley then quit the room in search of his own relief, leaving her in the company of the maid until his return. Knowing she had not long, she took advantage of the small amount of privacy thus afforded her, and hastened to make what repair she could to her appearance without access to her hairbrush and other dressing table accoutrements. She also took the opportunity to try to ask the maid for information on which persons of quality might be in the neighbourhood, but beyond a comment to the effect that the big house belonged to the gentleman’s family no reply could be gained.

Giving this up as a lost cause, she then looked over the room, hoping to find some means of preventing Mr Weasley from forcibly removing her once he decided they had tarried long enough. To her dismay, she could see nothing that promised assistance, unless she was to resort to accosting him with the fire irons, and even now she shrank from the thought of causing him such a degree of physical harm. She had not long to ponder her circumstances when Mr Weasley returned to the small room and, having dismissed the maid to remove the washing water, partook of the ale that was awaiting him. Hermione at first thought that this may provide her with the means of escape through causing a lessening of his faculties, but it was rapidly evident that he was used to imbibing much stronger liquor than an inn’s small beer and no such reprieve would occur.

While she sat, almost in despair at the thought that she would soon be compromised beyond all hope of salvation, she heard a great fuss and confusion begin outside the door. To her surprise she realised that she could hear none other than the Vicomte de Malfoi demanding service and a room for his mother in his most aristocratic tones. A glance at Mr Weasley showed that he had not recognised the voice making such imperious demands, and so, affecting not to have heard anything, she listened carefully to try and determine where the Vicomte was being led. His voice came closer, until she was persuaded that even Mr Weasley must be warned by the realisation of his presence that she might find a way out. However it seemed that her abductor had thoughts only for the ale in front of him until such time as he had finished the tankard.

By this time Hermione had heard the Vicomtesse also be escorted into the inn, the Vicomte apparently having decided that he approved the room offered to him by the innkeeper, who had come out from behind his bar to serve such a noble patron. She was thankful to comprehend that by some stroke of luck they had been given the adjoining room to that which was currently the site of her incarceration. Barely had this thought formed in her mind than Mr Weasley rose and made his way to the door. Reminding Hermione again to remain where she was he moved into the hallway and strode out to determine if his coach was ready for them to depart once more.

Hermione was disappointed to discover that he did not leave the inn completely, but remained in the entranceway, so that she could not risk slipping out of the door. In fact she had just decided to risk such a stratagem when he turned and began his way back to her. Thankful she had opened the door but a crack, she immediately shut it quietly before returning to her chair, and attempted to calm her breathing so that he should not suspect her having moved. No sooner had she sat than she realised she had missed the opportunity to grasp the heavy pewter tankard from which had been drinking just beforehand. With an inward shrug, she made a note to attempt it when she next stood, should such an opportunity arise.

“Well, now, are you ready to continue our journey now?” questioned Mr Weasley. Unable as Hermione was to do more than give a wan grimace to this query, he yet seemed to accept it as the agreement he was looking for. He moved toward her, and gestured for her to stand and accompany him out of the room. Once more he caught hold of her hand, placing it on his arm and placing his other hand upon it in a way that looked comforting to a careless glance, but which held Hermione as securely as when he had half-carried her in earlier.

Taking a deep breath as she walked out of the tiny room, Hermione peeked quickly up the hallway and was thankful to see it empty. Praying that she would succeed in causing him to release her hand, she pivoted on her foot, and used what little momentum she could gain to drive her other hand, tightly curled into a fist, into his face. A lucky strike meant that she caught him on the nose, and he instinctively raised both hands to the injured proboscis. Taking advantage of her release from his hold, Hermione immediately moved to the next door, and burst in to find herself face to face with the Vicomtesse de Malfoi.

That lady simply opened her arms to Hermione who collapsed into them with a sob. Her son moved to the hall, and turned Mr Weasley back into the small parlour he had but moments before departed, before returning to check on the ladies. Seeing that he would be decidedly de trop there, he caught his mother’s eye and motioned to show that he was moving to deal with the coaches and the innkeeper who was approaching to know what had caused the commotion. Luckily, the production of a sovereign or two appeased the landlord, and the Vicomte could then move out to the yard, where he gave orders to unharness the Weasley coach for the moment.

While this was done, Hermione had recovered somewhat her composure, and was being gently encouraged by the Vicomtesse to bathe her eyes with a little lavender water provided by the attentive Brigitte. While she did this, she was reassured that her plea had been received, and that a missive had been despatched to Mayfair to inform Lady Ross of her plight.

“You shall travel with us to Taplow Court, and we shall wait for Lady Ross to join us there. I am sure that even now she has begun her journey here, for my son did invite her to do just that in his letter, hurried though it was. You need have no fear now, for none shall know anything other than that you were in my company this whole time.” The Vicomtesse sat close beside Hermione on the chaise, and even as the younger lady gave a watery smile of thanks to this report the elder moved to enfold her more fully, seeing that she was still pale with the fright she had endured.

“You are kindness itself, Madame de Malfoi, to offer me such protection” faltered Hermione, before trying to straighten when she heard the door open once more. Seeing it was but the Vicomte entering she relaxed back into the maternal embrace, though she could help but look in entreaty to know what was occurring.

“Mr Weasley is locked into the room next this” said the Vicomte, brandishing the key which he had removed after securing the door. “I have dismissed his coachman and postilion for an hour, for I think we will need to arrange to take him and his conveyance to the Hall where we can release him to his father’s custody. I am assuming that you will not wish to make a public complaint Miss Granger?” The Vicomte looked quizzically at the lady taking comfort in his mother’s arms, and received a shaky nod of acknowledgement to this hypothesis.

“I have no wish to make my ordeal known to more than are already in possession of the facts sir” she replied. “To do so could not but do me more harm than he who more readily deserves it.”

“You are quite correct in your belief that to publicly decry his behaviour towards you can only increase your suffering” reassured the Vicomtesse. “I am sure however, that an honest and respectable man such as Sir Arthur Weasley will be duly horrified that a son of his should act in such a despicable manner, and so I think we can leave my son to inform him of the deficiencies of his!”

“I shall be glad to do so Miss Granger” said the Vicomte. “But I believe you will feel better to be in fully private surroundings, so it is my intention to see you safely on your way to the Court with my mother and Brigitte here, while I will deal with the less pleasant consequences of this day’s occurrences. I do hope you shall be able to enjoy the hospitality of the Court, despite the less than favourable circumstances leading to your being in receipt of such.” With this, he bowed, and left the room to ensure the coach was ready to convey the ladies off in safety and comfort away from public view.


	24. Chapter 24

It took the grooms some time to bring out the horses required for the two carriages, as they had all been returned to their stalls in the stable block. Hermione could only be glad for the respite of the additional minutes in which to complete the recovery of her composure after her collapse in the safety of the Vicomtesse’s maternal embrace. With the magical efficiency of Brigitte she was provided with brushes and combs for her hair, and when she realised that she was unable to hold them due to the bruising she had incurred when hitting Mr Weasley the Vicomtesse herself took over the task of bringing order to her locks. Her maid meanwhile was deputised to finding a soothing lotion and smoothing it over Hermione’s mistreated appendage.

Finally she was declared ready to depart the privacy of the inn’s best parlour, and Brigitte preceded her mistress in search of the coach. The Vicomte being thus informed of their preparedness came to escort Hermione and his mother through the hallway. They were just crossing the yard, with Hermione securely ensconced between her two protectors, when they saw two horsemen arrive at great speed and dismount with every appearance of being about to rain down the wrath of God upon any in their way. Hermione could not but gasp in shock at perceiving none other than the Duke of Peverell and his uncle before her, fearing that she was undone just as she thought she had reached the point of safety. Feeling her hands twitch convulsively on their arms, both Vicomte and Vicomtesse halted and turned to reassure her of their continued support, before the Vicomte loosed his arm and took a few steps toward the two newly arrived noblemen.

“Peverell!” he called, attracting their attention before they could begin to do more than hand the reins of their steeds to the waiting groom. “What brings you here this day, and in such a hurry? I was not aware that you had business in this direction?”

On hearing his name the Duke had turned to see who was thus summoning his attention, and on seeing Hermione stood there took one abortive step forward before being caught by the arm by his uncle, who murmured urgently in his ear. Recalled to his whereabouts, he moderated his pace, and strolled over to where the three were standing.

“Malfoi,” he called as he walked, “I am most pleased to see you here. I have come in the stead of another, who sought my assistance in resolving a matter of great import. Perhaps we could discuss this in more salubrious surroundings?” It did not take more than a flickering of his eyes toward Hermione for the Vicomte to realise the matter to which he referred. Gesturing to his mother to continue walking towards their carriage with Hermione, he moved to intercept the Duke before he came much closer to Hermione, well aware that the presence of three such obviously well-inlaid gentlemen was attracting much attention from the various stable hands and other servants around them, as well as that of a few young blades who had obviously been refreshing themselves in the taproom.

“I am glad to see you then” he replied once close enough to speak without being overheard. “I assume from your speech that you have been appointed as an advance guard as it were?”

“More that he appointed himself!” was Viscount Fitzroy’s contribution at this point, before with a small bow to the Vicomte he moved past them and headed to greet the Vicomtesse who had hesitated to enter her carriage on recognising who had accompanied the Duke.

“Dare I also assume then that Lady Ross is en route?” queried the Vicomte, relaxing slightly on receiving a nod of corroboration from the Duke.

“She is making for Taplow Court, but will call in here when she arrives this far. We did not wish her to continue on if the chase had led in a different direction and she would not find you in residence.”

“Then I suggest that we leave a message that she continue on as planned, and allow my mother and Miss Granger to leave for there on the moment. I believe that the sooner we can allow their departure the sooner Miss Granger will truly believe she is safe.” Agreement from the Duke being immediately forthcoming, they joined the Viscount and the three made their farewells to the ladies who were soon on their way to Taplow Court, to wait there for Lady Ross’ arrival. The three men meanwhile, returned to the parlour bespoke by the Vicomte to make the decision of how best to proceed in terms of Mr Weasley.

Knowing his nephew’s volatile temper, and fearing that even now he might be provoked into such immoderate behaviour as would cause the talk they had thus afar been able to avoid, it was the Viscount’s suggestion that he should be the one to accompany Mr Weasley on his journey to his paterfamilias. It took some clever arguments from both the other men to convince the Duke of the merits of this plan of action, but finally an appeal to his honour, and a suggestion that he could best serve Miss Granger by convincing her of his regard won the day. There was then a little discussion as to the disposition of the Vicomte, but eventually Viscount Fitzroy pointed out that Sir Weasley’s embarrassment would be best mitigated by the lack of any extraneous witnesses to the indubitably painful occasion that would be the recounting of the behaviour of his youngest son.

The call therefore went out for riding horses for the two younger men to be prepared, while those belonging to the Duke and the Viscount were to be left to rest at the inn for the time it would take the Viscount to journey to Burrow Hall with Mr Weasley and then return. A riding horse was also arranged for his use, he having decided that he would rather not enclose himself with Mr Weasley even that far and also not wishing to leave himself reliant on the provision of Sir Weasley for his return. These matters being now decided, all that remained was to release Mr Weasley from his makeshift confinement and ensure he gave no trouble on his departure from the inn. They had barely entered the small room where he had been enclosed when the Viscount suddenly roared with laughter to the surprise of his nephew.

“It appears that you have been pre-empted in your wish to draw Mr Wesley’s cork, Peverell” he exclaimed between laughs.

“I do not know whether to thank you or curse you for having forestalled me Malfoi” responded the Duke to this, though with much goodwill once he saw the state of Mr Weasley’s face.

“I can claim no credit for this Peverell” replied the Vicomte, to the surprise of both his companions. “Miss Granger proved herself much his equal, although I fear she suffered for the action. Still, I have no doubt that my mother and her maid between them will have a remedy for any injury she may have incurred. ‘Pon rep, they have enough experience between them having been charged with my recovery many a time as a boy.” He found his own amusement was greatly increased by the view he had of their astonishment at the thought that Miss Granger had placed such a blow.

Mr Weasley had been much chastened by his experiences that afternoon, and the time he had been confined had allowed him to realise just how much he had overstepped the boundaries of allowed behaviour, so that he gave no signs of opposing their decisions for his immediate disposition. He was soon escorted to the waiting coach and, with the Viscount in the saddle alongside, it began its journey to deliver him to his unsuspecting father. Having cleared the slate with the landlord and ensured a message would be passed to Lady Ross on her arrival, the two younger gentlemen themselves set off for Taplow Court, both replete with satisfaction that they had been able to see Miss Granger recovered without harm to either her person or, in many ways more importantly, her reputation.

They arrived to be informed that both ladies were resting in the Vicomtesse’s private rooms, and were not to be disturbed. Asking that his mother be informed of their arrival, and also ensuring that instruction had been given to prepare bedchambers for all the expected guests, the Vicomte invited his comrade to take the opportunity to rid himself of the scent of horse which they were both aware must be clinging to their persons. The Duke indicating his approval of this action, they repaired to their respective chambers where they were soon provided with warm water and clean linens.

Viscount Fitzroy arrived less than two hours behind them, having ridden at speed from Salt Hill once he was able to resume the use of his own mount, and leading the Duke’s stallion with him. He then joined the two younger gentlemen in the Vicomte’s study, where he informed them over glasses of Madeira that Mr Weasley was to be despatched to his uncle in India as soon as arrangements could be made. Secure in the knowledge that he would present no further risk to Miss Granger the three made their way to join the ladies, who they had been informed had settled themselves in the orangery to enjoy the view of the parkland there while taking a dish of tea.

On first seeing the three approach, Hermione paled before flushing a fiery red. A sympathetic pat on her arm by the Vicomtesse seemed to strengthen her resolve, and she rose to curtsey in greeting with the composure and grace of a queen. The gentlemen bowing in their turn, Viscount Fitzroy claimed a seat alongside that of the Vicomtesse, while the Duke offered his arm to Miss Granger, suggesting a stroll amongst the trees in the orangery. In consternation she glanced beseechingly at her hostess, who nodded encouragingly at her, before taking the proffered arm and thanking the Duke for his suggestion. The Vicomte took one look at the two couples before him, before making a vague reference to the need to ensure the housekeeper had all in hand and quitting the room.

Although conversation was quick to arise between the Viscount and the Vicomtesse, the younger pair both felt themselves unable to break the silence between them as they walked until they both felt they could bear it no longer, and spoke simultaneously.

“Please, Miss Granger, do continue,” said the Duke after another moment’s tense silence at the failed beginning to speech.

“I wished merely to enquire as to the reason for your arrival at Salt Hill your Grace” she almost whispered.

“I must admit that I had hoped to be able to act as your knight-errant, Miss Granger” he replied, noting her fluctuating colour at the thought. “I discovered your plight by merest chance, and was conferring with Lady Ross and my uncle as to our best course of action when the Vicomte’s letter was given into her hand.”

“I scarce know how to reply sir” she murmured, seemingly having lost the façade she had but moment before erected. “But I believe I must thank you for making the attempt even if I was fortunate enough to have been provided with another means of escape.”

“You are most welcome Miss Granger” replied the Duke, bringing them to a halt as they reached the farthest corner of the orangery from the house, and standing so that they were facing the gardens beyond the glass. “I stand ever as your most devoted servant.” This receiving but a small smile from Hermione, he turned his attention to the sunset which was starting to paint the sky before them. Hermione meanwhile found her thoughts scattered even as she attempted to bring them into order and clutched desperately for her fleeing composure as she stood by the man whose good opinion had become so vital to her continued well-being.

“Miss Granger” began the Duke cautiously, “I know you have had a most unsettling experience today, but hope that you will forgive my lack of patience in making known to you my most ardent regard for you. My admiration of your composure and intelligence has only been increased by the knowledge that you were able to so successfully defend yourself. I am only disappointed that I was not able to witness Mr Weasley’s expression upon your planting him such a facer!” Hermione could not hold back a choked gurgle at the memory of that expression. Her response encouraged the Duke’s impetuous nature to prevail over his caution.

“I dare not hope for an answer today, but must make known to you my intention to apply to Lady Ross for permission to make my addresses to you. It is my dearest wish to become he who first receives your commands in future, and can but lay myself and my hopes and dreams before you in supplication.” This being said while looking determinedly at the view in the hope that this way he need not see any signs of refusal in his fair companion, he was therefore taken by surprise when she moved to stand before him. Moving her hand from the crook of his elbow to lie upon his forearm as she did so, she looked up into his expressive eyes and saw only the most sincere admiration in his gaze.

“As you have posed no question, I can therefore make no reply” she began, “but I feel I must disclose that one of the main causes of the distress I felt earlier this day was the thought that in having fallen prey to such a trick I had debarred myself from being again in your company.”

At this, the Duke could not hold back his desire any longer, and he moved to lay his lips on hers as gently as he could, giving her every opportunity to prevent him doing so while hoping that she would not. His gratitude at her acceptance of his tribute was but fleeting as it was soon overcome by his rising passion as he deepened the embrace so that he was holding her close to him as she clutched in her turn at his shoulders. Time itself seemed to stand still as they were bathed in the vermilion light of the setting sun, until a voice broke the cocoon of silence around them.

“I take it then, that I have a wedding to plan Peverell?”

Hermione’s cheeks endeavoured to outdo even the sun at her comprehension that Lady Ross had arrived, and she made to break away from the Duke, who simply gathered her to his side as he turned to face their interlocutor.

“I certainly hope you will agree to make such a project your next endeavour Lady Ross” he replied with an insouciant grin in the direction of the dowager.

“I suppose I could consider it” she replied with a roguish grin. “I suspect that I shall find my ward in another minute or two” she continued “and then we shall all partake in what I believe the Vicomte has promised us shall be a most agreeable dinner.”

With that she turned her back upon the young couple, who took the opportunity to exchange one final caress before joining her to return to their hosts, who were soon rejoicing in being able to be the first to offer congratulations upon their betrothal.


	25. Chapter 25

The Earl of Longbottom looked out over the ballroom from his position between his grandmother and his wife. It was clear that most of those invited had already arrived, not wishing to miss their chance to be able to say they were present on the occasion of the return to Society’s gaze of the Duke of Peverell after two years where he had chosen to remain on the Peverell estates rather than reside in Town for any length of time. The Longbottom ball, long regarded as the true start of the Season, looked set to be denoted as truly a sad crush and the Earl could not help but feel the satisfaction of knowing that his wife would likely set the tone for the entire season with her choice of decorations.

Turning back towards the next group of arrivals, his gaze passed over the figure of the Countess of Ross, still upright despite her encroaching years, as she sat upon the chaise in his grandmother’s favoured alcove. Receiving an almost regal nod of recognition from her, he nodded back, the two of them in complete agreement that they were truly looking forward to that evening as they had not since the first where his wife had presided as hostess. The thought of that occasion could still bring a smile to his lips and with it the knowledge that he had made the best decision of his life at the tender age of ten, when he had pledged his troth to a blonde sprite in the beech grove in his family’s woods.

“Neville, dear” that sprite now murmured in his ear, “Peverell has just arrived.”

“Welcome Peverell” greeted the Earl as he saw his childhood friend step towards them, his wife radiant upon his arm. To the Earl’s eyes she seemed even lovelier than when she had last graced his ballroom, the years spent rusticating following the birth of Peverell’s heir seemingly having had no ill effects upon her complexion.

“My Lady Peverell it is a joy indeed to see you here again” his wife continued the welcome. “I am glad that you feel that young Charles is strong enough for you to be able to join us this evening.”

“He shows every sign of soon needing the country to allow him to run off his energies rather than for the benefits of the country air” replied the Duke, allowing his wife to make her curtsy to the Dowager Countess in her turn.

“Perhaps we can arrange for an outing to include all the children one day soon?” suggested the Duchess, before taking her husband’s arm once more. “For now, I believe we should brave the room, as you have more guests arriving and we cannot monopolise your time in this way lest you fail to greet them properly.”

“In that case I shall simply ask you to reserve for me the fourth set” promptly replied the Earl. “I would welcome the opportunity to dance with you again.”

“I would be delighted My Lord” agreed the Duchess before she moved with her husband to greet Mrs Brown, who was standing nearby with her daughters beside her. The gentlemen nodded to one another before each returned their attention to their respective spouses.

Some minutes later it appeared that no further guests were waiting to be welcomed to the ballroom, and so the Earl offered an arm to his grandmother and wife to escort them away from the door and to the chaise where he left his grandmother to sit and partake in an exchange of gossip with her oldest friend as they surveyed the dancers and other guests. Taking his wife’s hand, he moved with her to the dance floor, where with a nod to the waiting musicians he opened the dancing. As ever her delicate form somehow made him feel as though he too were floating as they moved through the figures.

Elsewhere in the room, the two dowagers were pleased to see that Viscount Fitzroy was present together with his godson. Their initial disappointment at the apparent absence of the Vicomte’s mother was soon relieved when the movement of the dance revealed her to be standing between the two men.

“It is good to see Fitzroy finally happy” said Lady Ross to her companion. “I had quite given up hope of his ever securing the line of succession beyond Peverell, and goodness knows that boy has enough to care for with all the Peverell lands.”

“Yes, and I am glad to see that presenting him with such a pledge of her affection has not taxed the dear Viscountess beyond her endurance. She seems almost rejuvenated rather by the experience.”

“Moreover, it is heartening to see the Vicomte dote so upon his young brother. I would wish that he would follow his mother’s steps down the aisle soon though, or he will be quite left behind by Peverell and your grandson.”

“We can but hope, for surely he must soon find a girl to suit him” answered Lady Longbottom. “Perhaps Minerva, we should consider assisting him as we did young Peverell five years ago, for look how well that has finished!”

“Perhaps we could consider it” agreed Lady Ross “although we should be sure to avoid the excitements that were required to bring that to a head. Such sad news that was to hear of young Weasley’s death to fever after he reached his uncle in East India.” The two ladies retreated into quiet for the moment as each remembered their own losses of children over the years, and sympathised with the undoubted grief felt by Lady Weasley, who had not been seen in company since the passing of her youngest son.

Meanwhile the Duke and Duchess of Peverell had been renewing their acquaintance with old friends as they moved amongst the throng in the room and watching the dancing. A pleasant exchange of compliments was made with Mrs Brown and her daughter Camellia, who was in her first Season and very thankful to have the support of her two elder sisters as well as her mother. Her eldest sister was greeted warmly by the Peverells and that lady’s husband was pleased to acknowledge his wife’s greatest friend.

“Lady Peverell I would like to make known to you my sister Rose’s husband Mr Ernest MacMillan” said Mrs Finch-Fletchley. “Ernest, this is my dear friend Hermione, Duchess of Peverell, and her husband the Duke of Peverell.” Mr MacMillan made it clear that he was happy to be introduced to these exalted personages, and smiled indulgently at his wife when she blushed as the Duke’s gaze fell upon her.

“Mrs MacMillan, dare I hope that you will favour me with a dance later this evening?” asked the Duke. “It is ever my pleasure to dance with one so agreeable as you have always proved yourself to be.” It was clear that the lady’s husband was not sure if he quite approved of such a compliment being paid to his wife, but a nearly imperceptible quirk of an eyebrow by his brother-in-law was enough to reassure him that there was naught to concern him in the exchange.

“I should be pleased to do so Your Grace” accepted Mrs MacMillan, “and would welcome more the opportunity to hear the latest exploits of your children.”

“I think you would be better served to apply to my wife for such information, particularly as it applies to Lillian’s enjoyment of the gewgaws you have been so kind as to present to her” replied the Duke, “but I shall engage myself to endeavour to answer such questions as you may wish to address to me.”

At this point they were joined by Viscount Fitzroy as he moved to greet his nephew. The two spent a moment in exchanging news of their respective offspring, before they were joined by the Viscount’s wife and her son. It did not take long for all the group to become aware of how the Vicomte’s stride faltered as he caught sight of Miss Camellia Brown, nor of how the consciousness of the Vicomte’s admiration caused the slightest of flushes to suffuse her cheeks. Introductions soon being made, he speedily secured her hand for the supper dance, before being forced by the end of the first set to depart in search of his partner for the second.

The group themselves were mostly free to continue in their conversations for the duration, although Miss Brown was claimed by the Earl of Longbottom as he had promised to provide her with a safe partner for her debut upon the floor. The Countess took her chance to attend to her duties as hostess, moving from group to group around the room bestowing encouraging remarks to the youngest of her guests as she went.

“I don’t wish to cause any distress” began Viscountess Fitzroy, with a careful glance at the Duchess, “but I heard yesterday that Miss Weasley has finally become betrothed.” Her listeners showed no sign of anything other than polite interest so she felt safe in continuing. “I believe that she has accepted an offer from a Mr Flint, whose father has holdings in mills of some sort in the north, where she will be dwelling with her husband once they have exchanged their vows.”

“I would wish her well in her marriage. For me it has been the cause of my enduring happiness these past years, and I can but wish the same to any entering into such a state” replied the Duchess.

“You do her too much honour” retorted the Viscount, “I doubt she would wish you so well!”

“Perhaps not Uncle Fitzroy, but if I allow myself to do other than wish her well do I not fall to her level?”

“I fear you shall not succeed in making my wife express a wish that anyone should suffer, Uncle” laughed the Duke to this exchange, though he was glad to hear that Miss Weasley was unlikely to return to the ton’s congregation at any time soon, for he had become weary of the enduring gossip that followed her attempts to find a husband once she had so obviously failed in setting her cap at him.

Taking advantage of the variation in the music then occurring, the Duke of Peverell chose to defy convention, and claimed his wife’s hand for the third dance, a waltz. All in the room were left with no doubt but that he was still deeply in love with her, as his gaze barely left hers as he span her in his arms.

“Happy my dear Hermione?” he murmured, and was satisfied when she merely nodded, though her eyes shone like they held the diamonds he had presented to her earlier that evening and which adorned her throat and ears. As he surrendered also to the music, they were cocooned together beyond the reach of the slings and arrows that might be loosed by the tongues of their peers. Little were they aware of the approval that such obvious devotion caused in the eyes of those most dear to them. Nor did they see the exchange of glances by the two redoubtable dowagers in the corner as they determined that they would indeed endeavour to encourage the Vicomte de Malfoi to follow the example set by his two friends and his godfather and seek a partner in life.


End file.
